THE   THREE 
MULLA-MULGARS 


'OH,  BUT  IF  :  MIGHT  BUT  HOLD  IT  IN 
MY  HAND  ONE  MOMENT,  I  THINK  THAT 
I     SHOl'I.l)     NEVER    EVEN    SIGH     AGAIN!' 


THE  THREE  r . 
MULLA=MULGARI 


ma.- 

kygh. 
U8my 


BY 


WALTER  DE  LA  MARE 

ILLUSTRATED  BY 

DOROTHY  /  P  f  LATHROP 


New  York  ALFRED  /  A  ^  KNOPF  '         Mcmxxv 


..•'COPYRIGHT,  1919,  BY 
*  ALFRED  A.  KNOPF,  Inc. 


Published,  December,  1919 
Second  Printing,  February,  1925 


PRINTED    IN    THE    UNITED    STATES    OF    AMERICA 


TO 

F.     AND    D. 

AND 
L.    AND    C. 


ei65'20 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  Oh,  but  if  I  might  but  hold  it  in  my  hand  one 

moment,  I  think  I  should  never  even  sigh  again !  "  Frontispiece 

"  The  Queen  of  the  Mountains  is  in  the  Forest  —  with  fingers 
of  frost  42 

The  Wonderstone  75 

Nod  was  never  left  alone  80 

He  jumped,  he  reared,  he  kicked,  he  plunged,  he  wriggled, 
he  whinnied  90 

Nod  danced  the  Jaqquas'  war-dance,  .  .  .  stooping  and 
crooked,  "  wriggle  and  stamp  "  129 

He  felt  a  sudden  darkness  above  his  head,  and  a  cold  terror 
crept  over  his  skin  132 

With  sticks  and  staves  and  flaring  torches  they  turned  on  the 
fierce  birds  that  came  sweeping  and  swirling  out  of  the  dark  189 

"  What  is  it,  brother?     Why  do  you  crouch  and  stare?  "         218 

"  For  there  stood  as  if  frozen  in  the  moonlight  the  monstrous 
silver-haired  Meermuts  of  Mulgarmeerez,  guarding  the  en- 
chanted orchards  of  Tishnar  224 

They  feasted  on  fruits  they  never  before  had  tasted  nor 
knew  to  grow  on  earth  232 

A  Mulgar  of  a  presence  and  a  strangeness,  who  was  without 
doubt  of  the  Kingdom  of  Assasimmon  274 


THE   THREE 
MULLA-MULGARS 


CHAPTER  I 


On  the  borders  of  the  Forest  of  Munza-mulgar  lived  once 
an  old  grey  fruit-monkey  of  the  name  of  Mutt-matutta. 
She  had  three  sons,  the  eldest  Thumma,  the  next  Thim- 
bulla,  and  the  youngest,  who  was  a  Nizza-neela,  Um- 
manodda.  And  they  called  each  other  for  short,  Thumb, 
Thimble,  and  Nod.  The  rickety,  tumble-down  old 
wooden  hut  in  which  they  lived  had  been  built  319  Munza 
years  before  by  a  traveller,  a  Portugall  or  Portingal,  lost 
in  the  forest  22,997  leagues  from  home.  After  he  was 
dead,  there  came  scrambling  along  on  his  fours  one  peace- 
ful evening  a  Mulgar  (or,  as  we  say  in  English,  a  monkey) 
named  Zebbah.  At  first  sight  of  the  hut  he  held  his  head 
on  one  side  awhile,  and  stood  quite  still,  listening,  his 
broad-nosed  face  lit  up  in  the  blaze  of  the  setting  sun.    He 

—11— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

then  hobbled  a  little  nearer,  and  peeped  into  the  hut. 
AVhereupon  he  hobbled  away  a  little,  but  soon  came  back 
and  peeped  again.  At  last  he  ventured  near,  and,  push- 
ing back  the  tangle  of  creepers  and  matted  grasses,  groped 
through  the  door  and  went  in.  And  there,  in  a  dark 
corner,  lay  the  Portingal's  little  heap  of  bones. 

The  hut  was  dry  as  tinder.  It  had  in  it  a  broken  fire- 
stone,  a  kind  of  chest  or  cupboard,  a  table,  and  a  stool, 
both  rough  and  insect-bitten,  but  still  strong.  Zebbah 
sniffed  and  grunted,  and  pushed  and  peered  about.  And 
he  found  all  manner  of  strange  and  precious  stuff  half 
buried  in  the  hut — pots  for  Subbub ;  pestles  and  basins  for 
Manaka-cake,  etc.;  three  bags  of  great  beads,  clear,  blue, 
and  emerald ;  an  old  rusty  musket ;  nine  ephelantoes'  tusks ; 
a  bag  of  Margarita  stones ;  and  many  other  things,  besides 
cloth  and  sjiider-silk  and  dried-up  fruits  and  fishes.  He 
made  his  dwelling  there,  and  died  there.  This  ISIulgar, 
Zebbah,  was  Mutta-matutta's  great-great-great-grand- 
father.    Dead  and  gone  were  all. 

Now,  one  day  when  Mutta-matutta  was  young,  and  her 
father  had  gone  into  the  forest  for  Sudd-fruit,  there  came 
limping  along  a  most  singular  ]Mulgar  towards  the  house. 
He  was  bent  and  shrunken,  shivering  and  coughing,  but 
he  walked  as  men  walk,  his  nut-shaped  head  bending  up 
out  of  a  big  red  jacket.  His  shoulder  and  the  top  of  his 
head  were  worn  bare  by  the  rubbing  of  the  bundle  he  car- 
ried. And  behind  him  came  stumbling  along  another 
Mulgar,  his  servant,  with  a  few  rags  tied  round  his  body, 
who  could  not  at  first  speak,  his  tongue  was  so  much 
swollen  from  his  having  bitten  in  the  dark  a  poison-spider 
in  his  nuts.     The  name  of  his  master  was  Seelem;  his 

—12— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

own  name  was  Glint.  This  Seelem  fell  very  sick. 
Mutta-matutta  nursed  him  night  and  day,  with  the  sour- 
est monkey-physic.  He  was  pulled  crooked  with  pain  and 
the  shivers,  or  rain-fever.  The  tips  of  the  hairs  on  his 
head  had  in  his  wanderings  turned  snow-white.  But  he 
bore  his  pain  and  his  sickness  (and  his  physic)  without 
one  groan  of  complaint. 

And  Glint,  who  fetched  water  and  gathered  sticks  and 
nuts,  and  helped  Mutta-matutta,  told  her  that  his  master, 
Seelem,  was  a  MuUa-mulgar — that  is,  a  Mulgar  of  the 
Blood  Royal — and  own  brother  to  Assasimmon,  Prince 
of  the  Valleys  of  Tishnar. 

He  told  her,  also,  that  his  master  had  wearied  of  As- 
sasimmon's  valley-palace,  his  fine  food  and  dishes,  his  music 
of  shells  and  strings,  his  countless  Mulgar-slaves,  beasts, 
and  groves  and  gardens;  and  that,  having  chosen  three 
servants,  Jacca,  Glutt,  and  himself,  he  had  left  his  brother's 
valleys,  to  discover  what  lay  beyond  the  Arakkaboa 
Mountains.  But  Jacca  had  perished  of  frost-bite  on  the 
southern  slopes  of  the  Peak  of  Tishnar,  and  Glutt  had 
been  eaten  by  the  Minimuls. 

He  was  very  silent  and  gloomy,  this  Mulla-mulgar, 
Seelem,  but  glad  to  rest  his  bruised  and  weary  bones  in 
the  hut.  And  when  Mutta-matutta's  father  died  from 
sleeping  in  the  moon-mist  at  Sudd-ripening,  Seelem  un- 
tied his  traveUing  bundle  and  made  his  home  in  the  hut. 
Mutta-matutta  was  a  lonely  and  rather  sad  Mulgar,  so 
at  this  she  rejoiced,  for  she  had  grown  from  fearing  to 
love  the  royal  old  wanderer.  And  she  helped  him  to  put 
away  all  that  was  in  his  bundles  into  the  Portingal's  chest 
— three  shirts  of  cotton;  two  red  jackets,  like  his  own,  with 

—13— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

metal  hooks ;  a  sheep's-coat,  with  ivory  buttons  and  pocket- 
flaps;  three  skin  shoes  (for  one  had  been  lost  out  of  his 
bundle  in  the  forest)  ;  a  cap  of  Maniasul  skin  (very  pre- 
cious) ;  besides  knives,  fire-strikers,  a  hollow  cup  of  ivory, 
magic  physic-powder,  two  combs  of  Impaleena-horn,  a 
green  serpent-skin  for  sweetening  water,  etc.,  and,  beyond 
and  above  all,  the  milk-white  Wonderstone  of  Tishnar. 

Here  they  hved,  Seelem  and  Mutta  (as  he  called  her), 
in  the  Portingal's  old  hut,  for  thirteen  years.  And  Mutta 
was  happy  with  Seelem  and  her  three  sons.  Thumb,  Thim- 
ble, and  Nod.  They  had  a  water-spring,  honey-boxes  or 
baskets  for  the  bees  in  the  Ollaconda-trees,  a  shed  or  hud- 
dle of  green  branches,  for  Glint,  and  a  big  patch  of  Um- 
muz-cane.  Nod  slept  in  a  kind  of  hole  or  burrow  in 
the  roof,  with  a  tiny  peeping-hole,  from  which  he  used 
to  scare  the  birds  from  his  father's  Ummuz. 

JNIutta  wished  only  that  Seelem  was  not  quite  so  grim 
and  broody;  that  the  Munza-mulgars  (forest-monkeys) 
would  not  come  stealing  her  Subbub  and  honey;  and  that 
the  Portingal's  hut  stood  quite  out  of  the  silvery  moon- 
mist  that  rose  from  the  swamp;  for  she  suffered  (as  do 
most  fruit-monkeys)  from  the  bones-ache.  Seelem  was 
gentle  and  easy  in  his  own  moody  way  with  Mutta  and  his 
three  sons,  but,  most  of  all,  he  cheered  his  heart  with  tiny 
Nod,  the  Nizza-neela.  Sometimes  all  day  long  this  old 
travel-worn  Mulla-mulgar  never  uttered  a  sound,  save  at 
evening,  when  he  sang  or  droned  his  evening  hymn  to 
Tishnar.^     He  kept   a  thick  stick,  which  he  called  his 

1  Tishnar  is  a  very  ancient  word  in  Munza,  and  means  that  which  cannot 
be  thought  about  in  words,  or  told,  or  expressed.  So  all  the  wonderful, 
secret,  and  quiet  world  beyond  the  Mulgars'  lives  is  Tishnar — wind  and  stars, 
too,  the  sea  and  the  endless  unknown.     But  here  it  is  only  the  Beautiful  One 

—14— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Guzza,  to  punish  his  three  sons  when  they  were  idle  and 
sullen,  or  gluttonous,  or  with  Munza  tricks  pestered  their 
mother.     And  he  never  favoured  Nod  beyond  the  others 

of  the  Mountains  that  is  meant.  So  beautiful  is  she  that  a  Mulgar  who 
dreams  even  of  one  of  her  Maidens,  and  wakes  still  in  the  presence  of  his 
dream,  can  no  longer  be  happy  in  the  company  of  his  kind.  He  hides  himself 
away  in  some  old  hole  or  rocky  fastness,  lightless,  matted,  and  uncombed, 
and  so  thins  and  pines,  or  becomes  a  Wanderer  or  Moh-mulgar.  But  it  is 
rare  for  this  to  be,  for  very  few  Mulgars  dream  beyond  the  mere  forest,  as 
it  were;  and  fewer  still  keep  the  memories  of  their  dreams  when  the  livelong 
vision  of  Munza  returns  to  their  waking  eyes.  The  Valleys  of  Tishnar  lie  on 
either  flank  of  the  Mountains  of  Arakkaboa,  though  she  herself  wanders  only 
in  the  stillness  of  the  mountain  snows.  She  is  shown  veiled  on  the  rude  pots 
of  Assasimmon  and  in  Mulgar  scratch-work,  with  one  slim-fingered  hand  clasp- 
ing her  robe  of  palest  purple,  her  head  bent  a  little,  as  if  hearkening  to  her 
thoughts;  and  she  is  shod  with  sandals  of  silver.  Of  these  things  the  wan- 
dering Oomgar-nuggas,  or  black  men,  tell.  From  Tishnar,  too,  comes  the 
Last  Sleep — the  sleep  of  all  the  World.  The  last  sleep  just  of  their  own  life 
only  is  Noomanossi — darkness,  change,  and  the  unretuming.  And  Inimanala 
is  she  who  preys  across  these  shadows,  in  this  valley.  So,  too,  the  Mulgars  say, 
"Nooma,  Nooma,"  when  they  mean  shadow,  as  "In  the  sun  paces  a  leopard's 
Nooma  at  her  side."  Meermut,  which  means  in  part  also  shadow,  is  the 
shadow,  as  it  were,  of  lesser  light  lost  in  Tishnar's  radiance,  just  as  moon- 
light may  cast  a  shadow  of  a  pine-tree  across  a  smouldering  fire.  There  is, 
too,  a  faint  wind  that  breathes  in  the  first  twilight  and  starshine  of  Munza 
called  the  Wind  of  Tishnar.  It  was,  I  think,  the  faint  murmur  of  this  wind 
that  echoed  in  the  ear  of  Mutta-matutta  as  she  lay  dying,  for  in  dying  one 
hears,  it  is  said,  what  in  life  would  carry  no  more  tidings  to  the  mind  than 
light  brings  to  the  hand.  Nod's  bells  that  he  heard,  and  thought  were  his 
father's,  must  have  been  the  Zevveras'  bells  of  Tishnar's  Water-middens,  all 
wandering  Meermuts.  These  Water-middens,  or  Water-maidens,  are  like  the 
beauty  of  the  moonlight.  The  countless  voices  of  fountain,  torrent,  and  cata- 
ract are  theirs.  They,  with  other  of  Tishnar's  Maidens,  come  riding  on  their 
belled  Zevveras,  and  a  strange  silence  falls  where  their  little  invisible  horses 
are  tethered;  while,  perhaps,  the  Maidens  sit  feasting  in  a  dell,  grey  with 
moonbeams  and  ghostly  flowers.  Even  the  sullen  MuUabruk  learns  somehow 
of  their  presence,  and  turns  aside  on  his  fours  from  the  silvery  mist  of  their 
glades  and  green  alleys,  just  as  in  the  same  wise  a  cold  air  seems  to  curdle 
his  skin  when  some  haunting  Nooma  passes  by.  All  the  inward  shadows  of 
the  creatures  of  Munza-mulgar  are  Noomanossi's ;  all  their  phantoms,  spirits, 
or  Meermuts  are  Tishnar's.  And  so  there  is  a  never-ending  changeableness 
and  strife  in  their  short  lives.  The  leopard  (or  Roses,  as  they  call  her,  for 
the  beauty  of  her  clear  black  spots)  is  Meermut  to  her  cubs,  Nooma  to  the 
dodging  Skeetoes  she  lies  in  wait  for,  stretched  along  a  bough.     Her  beauty 

—15— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

more  than  all  good  fathers  favour  the  youngest,  the  littlest, 
and  the  gaysoniest  of  their  children. 

One  of  the  first  things  that  Nod  remembered  was  Glint's 
tumbling  from  the  great  Ukka-tree,  which  he  had  climbed 
a)t  rijjening-time,  bough  up  to  bough  from  the  bottom, 
cracking  shells  and  eating  all  the  way,  until,  forgetting 
how  heavy  he  had  become,  he  swung  his  fat  body  on  to  a 
slender  and  withered  branch,  and  fell  all  a-topple  from 
top  to  bottom  on  to  the  back  of  his  thick  skull.  Beneath 
this  same  dark-leaved  tree  Seelem  buried  his  servant,  to- 
gether with  a  pot  of  subbub,  seven  loaves  or  cakes,  and  a 
long  stick  of  Ummuz-cane.  But  Mutta-matutta  after  his 
death  would  never  touch  an  Ukka-nut  again. 

Seelem  taught  his  sons  how  to  make  fire,  what  nuts  and 
roots  and  fruits  and  grasses  were  wholesome  for  eating; 
what  herbs  and  bark  and  pith  for  physic;  what  reeds  and 
barks  for  cloth.  He  taught  them  how  to  take  honey  with- 
out being  stung;  how  to  count;  how  to  find  their  way  by 
the  chief  and  brightest  among  the  stars ;  to  cut  cudgels,  to 
build  leaf-huts  and  huddles  against  heat  or  rain.  He 
taught  them,  too,  the  common  tongue  of  the  Forest- 
monkeys — that  is  the  language  of  nearly  all  the  Mulgars 
that  live  in  the  forests  of  Munza — Jacquet-mulgars,  Mul- 
labruks,  purple-faced  and  saffron-headed  Mulgars,  Skee- 
toes,  tuft-waving  Manquabees,  Fly-catchers  and  Squirrel- 
tails,  and  many  more  than  I  can  mention.     Seelem  taught 

is  Tishnar's;  the  savagery  of  her  claws  is  N56manossi's.  So  Munza's  children 
are  dark  or  bright,  lovely  or  estranging,  according  as  Meermut  or  Nooma 
prevails  in  their  natures.  And  thus,  too,  they  choose  the  habitation  of  their 
bodies.  Yet  because  dark  is  but  day  gone,  and  cruelty  wrekindness,  therefore 
even  the  heart-shattering  Noomanossi,  even  Immanala  herself,  is  only  absent 
Tishnar.  But  there,  as  everyone  can  see,  I  am  only  chattering  about  what  I 
cannot  undcrst  -^ 

—16— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

them  also  a  little  of  the  languages  of  the  dreaded  Gunga- 
mulgars,  of  the  Collobs,  and  the  Babbaboomas.  But  the 
Minimul-mulgars'  and  the  Oomgars'  or  man-monkeys' 
languages  (white,  black,  or  yellow)  he  could  not  teach,  be- 
cause he  did  not  know  them.  When,  however,  they  were 
alone  together  they  spoke  the  secret  language  of  the 
Mulla-mulgars  dwelling  north  of  the  Arakkaboas — that 
is,  INIulgar-royal.  This  language  in  some  ways  resembles 
that  of  the  Portugalls,  in  some  that  of  the  Oggewibbies, 
and,  here  and  there — but  in  very  little — Garniereze.  See- 
lem,  of  course,  taught  his  sons,  and  especially  Thumb, 
many  other  things  besides — more,  certainly,  than  would 
contain  itself  in  a  little  book  like  this.  But,  above  all,  he 
taught  them  to  walk  upright,  never  to  taste  blood,  and 
never,  unless  in  danger  or  despair,  to  climb  trees  or  to  grow 
a  tail. 

But  now,  after  all  these  thirteen  years  of  absence  from 
Assasimmon's  palace  in  the  beautiful  Valleys  of  Tishnar, 
Seelem  began  to  desire  more  and  more  to  see  again  his 
home  and  his  brother,  with  whom  as  a  child  he  had  walked 
in  scarlet  and  Mamasul,  and  drunk  his  syrup  from  an 
ivory  cup.  He  grew  more  gloomy  and  morose  than  ever, 
squatted  alone,  his  eyes  fixed  mournfully  in  the  air.  And 
Mutta  would  whisper  to  Nod:  "Sst,  zun  nizza-neela,  tus- 
weeta  zan  nuome." 

The  more  cunning  of  the  Forest-mulgars  at  first  had 
come  in  troops  to  Seelem,  laden  with  gifts  of  nuts  and 
fruits,  because  they  were  afraid  of  him.  But  he  would 
sit  in  his  red  jacket  and  merely  stare  at  them  as  if  they 
were  no  better  than  flies.  And  at  last  they  began  in  re- 
venge to  do  him  as  much  mischief  as  their  wits  could  con- 

—17— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

trivc,  until  he  grew  utterly  weary  of  their  scuffling  and 
quarrelling,  their  thumbs  and  colours,  fleas  and  tails.  At 
last  he  could  bear  himself  no  longer,  and  one  morning, 
in  the  first  haze  of  sunrise  over  the  sleeping  forest,  he 
called  Mutta  and  his  three  sons  to  where  he  sat  in  the 
shadow  of  Ghnt's  great  budding  Ukka-tree.  And  he  told 
them  he  was  going  on  a  long  journey — "beyond  and  be- 
yond, forest  and  river,  forest  swamp  and  river,  the  moun- 
tains of  Arakkaboa,  leagues,  leagues  away" — to  seek  again 
the  Valleys  of  Tishnar.  "And  I  will  come  back,"  he 
said,  leaning  his  hand  upon  the  ground  and  blinking  at 
Nod,  "with  slaves  and  scarlet  and  food-baskets  and  Zev- 
veras,  and  bring  you  all  there  with  me.  But  first  I  must 
go  alone  and  find  the  way  through  dangers  thick  as  flies,  O 
Mulla-mulgars.  Wait  here  and  guard  your  old  mother, 
Mutta-matutta,  my  sons,  her  Ummuz  and  ukkas.  And 
grow  strong,  O  tailless  ones,  till  I  return.  Zu  zoube  seese 
muglareen,  een  suang  no  nouano  zupbf !"  And  that  was 
all  he  said. 

But  Mutta-matutta,  though  she  could  not  hide  her  grief 
at  his  going,  helped  him  in  every  way  she  could  to  be 
quickly  gone.  He  seemed  beside  himself,  this  white,  old, 
crooked  ^Mulla-mulgar.  His  eyes  blazed;  he  went  mut- 
tering; he'd  throw  up  his  hands  and  snuff  and  snuff,  as  if 
the  very  wind  bore  Tishnar  on  its  wings.  And  even  at 
night  he'd  rise  up  in  the  darkness  and  open  the  door  and 
listen  as  if  out  of  the  immeasurable  and  solitudinous  for- 
ests he  heard  voices  calling  him  from  far  away.  At  length, 
in  his  last  shirt  (which  had  been  carefully  kept  these  thir- 
teen years,  with  a  dead  kingfisher  and  a  bag  of  civet,  to 
keep  off'  the  cockroaches) ;  in  his  finest  red  jacket  and  his 

—18— 


THE  THREE  MULL A-MUL GARS 

cap  of  Mamasul-skin ;  with  a  great  bundle  of  Manaka-cake 
and  Ummuz-cane,  knife  and  fire-striker  and  physic,  and 
the  old  Portingal's  rusty  musket  on  his  shoulder,  he  was 
ready  to  be  off.  In  the  early  morning  he  came  stooping 
under  the  little  hut-door.  He  looked  at  his  hut  and  his 
water-spring,  at  his  bees  and  canes ;  he  looked  at  his  three 
sons,  and  at  old  jNIutta-matutta,  with  a  great  frown,  and 
trembled.  And  Mutta  could  not  bear  to  say  good-bye; 
she  lifted  her  crooked  hands  above  her  old  head,  the  tears 
running  down  her  cheeks,  and  she  went  and  hid  herself  in 
the  hut  till  he  was  gone.  But  his  three  sons  went  a  little 
way  with  him. 

Thumb  and  Thimble  hopped  along  with  his  heavy  bun- 
dle on  a  stick  between  them  to  the  branching  of  the  Mul- 
gar-track,  which  here  runs  nearly  two  paces  wide  into  the 
gloom  of  Munza-mulgar ;  while  Nod  sat  on  Seelem's  shoul- 
der, sucking  a  stick  of  Ummuz-cane,  and  clutching  the 
long,  cold,  rusty  barrel  of  his  musket.  The  trees  of  the 
forest  lifted  their  branches  in  a  trembling  haze  of  heat, 
hung  with  grey  thorny  ropes,  and  vines  and  traihng  creep- 
ers of  Cullum  and  Samarak,  vivid  with  leaves,  and  with 
large  cuplike  waxen  flowers,  moon-white,  amber,  mauve, 
and  scarlet.  Butterflies  like  blots  and  splashes  of  flame, 
wee  Tominiscoes,  ruby  and  emerald  and  amethyst,  shim- 
mered and  spangled  and  sipped  and  hovered.  And  a 
thin,  twangling,  immeasurable  murmur  like  the  strings  of 
Noomanossi's  harp  rose  from  the  tiny  millions  that  made 
their  nests  and  mounds  and  burrows  in  the  forest. 

Seelem  took  his  sons  one  by  one  by  the  shoulders,  and 
looked  into  their  eyes,  and  touched  noses.  And  they  lifted 
their  hands  in  salutation,  and  watched  him  till  he  was 

—19— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

gone  from  sight.  But  though  his  grey  face  was  all  wiz- 
ened up  with  trouhle  and  wet  with  tears,  he  never  so  much 
as  once  looked  behind  him,  lest  his  sons  should  cry  after 
him,  or  he  turn  back.  So,  presently,  after  they  all  three 
lifted  their  hands  once  more,  as  if  his  Meermut  ^  might 
still  haunt  near;  and  then  they  went  home  to  their  mother. 

But  the  rains  came;  he  did  not  return.  The  long  days 
strode  softly  by,  the  chatter  and  screams  of  Munza  at 
dawn,  the  long-drawn,  moaning  shout  of  Mullabruk  to 
Mullabruk  as  darkness  deepened.  Nod  would  sometimes 
venture  a  little  way  into  the  forest,  hoping  to  hear  the 
gongs  that  his  father  had  told  him  the  close-shorn  slaves 
of  Assasimmon  tie  with  leopard-thongs  about  their  Zev- 
veras'  necks.  He  would  sit  in  the  gigantic  shadows  of 
evening,  watching  the  fireflies,  and  saying  to  himself: 
"Sst,  Nod,  see  what  they  say — to-morrow!"  But  the 
morrow  never  came  that  brought  him  back  his  father. 

Mutta-matutta  cared  and  cooked  for  them.  She  made 
a  great  store  of  Manaka-cake,  packed  for  coolness  all 
neatly  in  plantain-leaves;  Nano-cheese,  and  two  or  three 
big  pots  of  Subbub.  She  kept  them  clean  and  combed; 
plastered  and  physicked  them;  taught  them  to  cook,  and 
many  things  else,  until,  as  one  by  one  they  grew  up,  they 
knew  all  that  she  could  teach  them,  except  the  wisdom  to 
use  what  they  had  learnt.  She  would  often,  too,  in  the 
first  hush  of  night,  tell  them  stories  of  their  father,  and 
of  her  own  father,  back  even  to  Zebbah,  and  the  Portingal 
dangling  with  his  bunch  of  wild-cats'  tails  in  the  corner. 

1  "Meermut"    is    shadow,   phantom,   spectre,   or   even   the   pictured   remem- 
brance of  anything  in  the  mind. 

—20— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

But  as  the  years  wasted  away,  she  grew  thin  and  mourn- 
ful, and  fell  ill  of  pining  and  grief  and  age,  and  even  had 
at  last  to  keep  to  her  bed  of  moss  and  cotton  in  the  hut. 

Her  sons  worked  hard  for  her,  pushing  into  the  forest 
and  across  the  narrow  swamp  in  search  of  fruits  to  tempt 
her  appetite.  Nod  heaped  up  fresh  leaves  for  her  bed, 
and  sang  in  his  shrill,  quavering  voice  every  evening  Tish- 
nar's  hymn  to  his  poor  old  mother.  He  baked  her  sweet 
potatoes  and  Nanoes  wrapped  in  leaves,  and  would  dance 
round,  "wriggle  and  stamp — wriggle  and  stamp,"  as 
Seelem  had  told  him  dance  the  Oomgar-nuggas,  to  try  to 
make  her  cheerful.  But  by-and-by  she  began  to  languish, 
her  teeth  chattering,  her  eyes  burning,  unable  to  eat. 
.  .  .  And  one  still  afternoon,  when  only  Nod  was  near 
(his  brothers,  tired  of  the  heat  and  buzzing  in  the  green  hut, 
having  gone  to  gather  nuts  and  sticks  in  the  forest),  as 
Mutta-matutta  sat  dozing  and  muttering  in  her  corner, 
came  the  voice  of  Tishnar,  calling  in  the  hush  of  evening: 
and  she  knew  she  must  die. 

Nod  crept  close  to  her,  thinking  at  first  the  strange  voice 
singing  was  the  sound  of  Seelem's  Ze\'^^eras'  distant  gongs, 
and  he  held  the  hard  thin  hand  between  his.  When 
Thumb  and  Thimble  returned  with  their  bags  and  fag- 
gots of  smoulder-wood,  she  called  them  all  three,  and  told 
them  she  too  must  go  away  now,  perhaps  even,  if  only  in 
Meermut,  to  find  their  father.  And  she  besought  them  to 
be  always  true  and  faithful  one  to  another,  and  to  be  brave. 
"Five  fingers  serve  one  hand,  my  good  men,"  she  said. 
"And  oh,  remember  this  always:  that  you  are  all  three 
Mulla-mulgars,  sons  of  Seelem,  whose  home  is  far  from 

—21— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

here — IMiilla-mulgars  who  never  do  walk  flambo — that 
is,  on  all  fours — never  taste  blood,  and  never,  unless  in 
danger  and  despair,  climb  trees  or  grow  a  tail." 

It  was  hot  and  gloomy  in  the  tangled  little  hut,  lit  only 
by  the  violet  of  the  dying  afterglow.  And  when  she  had 
rested  a  little  while  to  recover  her  breath,  she  told  them 
that  Seelem,  the  night  before  he  left  them,  had  said  that, 
should  he  perish  on  his  journey  and  not  return,  in  seven 
Munza  years  they  were,  as  best  they  could,  bravely  to 
follow  after  him.  In  time  they  would  perhaps  reach  the 
Valleys  of  Tishnar,  and  their  uncle,  Prince  Assasimmon, 
would  welcome  them. 

"His  country  lies  beyond  and  beyond,"  she  said,  "for- 
est and  river,  forest,  swamp  and  river,  the  Mountains  of 
Arakkaboa — leagues,  leagues  away." 

And,  as  she  paused,  a  feeble  wind  sighed  through  the 
open  window,  stirring  the  dangling  bones  of  the  Portin- 
gal,  so  that,  with  their  faint  clicking,  they  too,  seemed  to 
echo,  "leagues,  leagues  away." 

"It  will  be  a  long  and  dreary  journey,  my  sons.  But 
the  Prince  Assasimmon,  INIulla-mulla  of  the  Mulgars,  is 
great  and  powerful,  and  has  for  hut  a  palace  of  ivory  and 
Azmamogreel,  with  scarlet  and  Mamasul,  slaves  and  pea- 
cocks, and  beasts  uncountable;  and  leagues  of  Ukka 
and  Barbary-nuts ;  and  boundless  fields  of  Ummuz,  and 
orchards  of  fruit,  and  bowers  of  flowers  and  pleasure. 
And  his,  too,  is  the  Rose  of  all  the  Mulgars."  And  as  he 
listened  Thimble  shuffled  from  foot  to  foot,  his  heart  un- 
easy, to  hear  her  cry  so  hollowly  the  beauty  of  that  Rose. 
And  at  her  bidding,  out  of  the  cupboard  they  took  the 
civeted  bundles  of  all  the  stuff  and  little  Mulgar  treasures 

—22— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

she  had  been  hoarding  up  all  these  years  for  them  against 
this  last  day. 

She  gave  Thumb  and  Thimble  each  a  red  Oomgar's 
jacket  with  curved  metal  hooks,  and  to  Nod  the  little  coat 
of  mountain-sheep's  wool,  with  its  nine  ivory  buttons. 
She  divided  and  shared  everything  between  them — their 
father's  knives  and  cudgels,  the  beads  blue  and  emerald, 
the  Margarita  stones.  The  Portingal's  rusty  hatchet, 
burned  with  a  cross  on  its  stock,  she  gave  to  Thumb;  a 
little  fat  black  greasy  book  of  sorcery,  made  of  Exx- 
swixxia  leaves,  to  Thimble ;  and  to  Nod,  last  of  all,  picking 
it  out  of  the  stitched  serpent-skin  lining  of  her  great  wool 
cap,  she  gave  the  Wonderstone. 

'T  give  this  to  Nod,"  she  said  to  his  brothers,  "because 
he  is  a  Nizza-neela,  and  has  magic  in  him.  Come  close, 
my  sons,  Thumb  and  Thimble,  and  see.  His  winking 
[or  left]  ^  eye  has  green  within  the  hazel;  his  thumbs  grow 
lean  and  long;  he  still  keeps  two  milk-teeth;  and  bears  the 
Nizza-neela  tuft  betwixt  his  ears."  With  her  hot  skinny 
fingers  she  stroked  softly  back  his  hair,  and  showed  his 
brothers  the  little  velvety  patch,  or  tuft,  or  badge,  or  crest, 
on  the  top  of  his  head,  above  the  parting.  "O  JNIulla- 
mulgars,  how  I  begged  your  father  to  take  this  Wonder- 
stone  with  him  on  his  journey!  but  he  would  not.  He 
said,  'Keep  it,  and  let  my  sons,  if  need  be,  carry  it  after 
me  to  the  kingdom  of  my  brother.  He  will  know  by  this 
one  thing  that  they  are  indeed  my  sons,  Mulla-mulgars, 
Princes  of  Tishnar,  sibbetha  eena  manga  Moh!" 

"Never,    little    Nod,"    said    his    old    dying    mother — 

lOn  the  right  or  cudgel  side,  the  Mulgars  say,  sits  Bravery;  on  the  winking, 
woman,  or  left  side,  Craft. 

—23— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"never  lose,  nor  give  away,  nor  sport  with,  nor  even  lend 
this  Wonderstone ;  and  if  in  your  long  journey  you  are  in 
danger  of  the  Third  Sleep,^  or  lost,  or  in  great  fear,  spit 
with  your  spittle  on  the  stone,  and  rub  softly  three  times 
with  your  left  thumb,  Samaweeza:  Tishnar  will  hear  you; 
help  will  come." 

Then,  with  her  small,  clumsy  fingers,  she  tied  up  the 
sleeping  milk-white  Wonderstone  in  the  hem  of  his  woolly 
sheep's  coat,  and  lay  back  in  her  bed,  too  feeble  to  speak 
again.  Thumb,  Thimble,  and  Nod  sat  all  three,  each  with 
his  little  heap  of  house-stuff  before  him,  which  it  seemed 
hateful  now  to  have,  staring  through  the  doorway.  In  the 
purple  gloom  the  fireflies  were  mazily  flickering.  Night 
was  still,  like  a  simmering  pot,  with  heat.  And  out  of  the 
swamp  they  heard  the  Ooboe  calling  to  its  mate,  singing 
marvellous  sweet  and  clear  in  the  darkness  above  its  woven 
nest;  while  over  their  heads  the  tiny  Nikka-nakkas,  or 
mouse-owls,  sat  purring  in  the  thatch.  And  Nod  said: 
"Listen,  Mutta,  listen;  how  the  Ooboe's  telhng  secrets!" 
And  she  smiled  with  tight-shut  lids,  wagging  her  wizened 
head. 

And  in  the  deepest  dead  of  night,  when  Thimble  sat, 
sleeping,  his  long  arms  thrown  out  over  the  Portingal's 
rough  table,  and  Thumb  crouching  at  the  door.  Nod  heard 
in  the  silence  a  very  faint  sigh.  He  crept  to  his  mother's 
bed.  She  softly  raised  her  hand  to  him,  and  her  eyes 
closed. 

So  her  three  sons  dug  her  a  deep  grave  beside  Glint's, 

1  First  Sleep   is  night-sleep;   Second  Sleep  is  swoon-sleep;  Third  Sleep  is 

death,  or  Noomanossi.     So,  too,  the  Mulgars  say,  the  first  is  "Little-go,"  the 

second  is  "Great-go,"  and  the  third  is  "Come-no-more";  as  if  their  bodies 
were  a  lodging,  and  sleep  a  kind  of  out-of-doors. 

—24— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

under  the  Ukka-tree,  as  she  had  bidden  them.  And  many 
of  the  Forest-mulgars,  specially  those  of  her  own  kind  and 
kindred,  came  down  solemnly  out  of  the  forest  towards 
evening  of  that  day,  and  keened  or  droned  for  Mutta- 
matutta,  squatting  together  at  some  little  distance  from  the 
Portingal's  hut.  Beyond  their  counting  (though  that  is 
not  a  hard  matter)  was  the  number  of  the  years  she  and 
her  father  and  her  father's  father,  back  even  to  Zebbah, 
had  lived  in  the  hut.  But  they  did  not  come  near,  because 
they  feared  the  Portingal's  yellow  bones  hung  up  in  the 
corner. 


—25— 


^  f/ 


DPL 


CHAPTER  II 

At  first  the  three  brothers  liv^d  so  forlorn  and  soHtary 
together  they  could  scarcely  eat.  Everything  they  saw 
or  handled  told  them  only  over  and  over  again  that  their 
mother  was  dead.  But  there  was  work  to  be  done,  and 
brave  hearts  must  take  courage,  else  sorrow  and  trouble 
would  be  nothing  but  evil.  This,  too,  was  no  time  for 
sitting  idle  and  doleful.  For  a  little  before  the  gathering 
of  the  rains  there  began  to  seem  a  strangeness  in  the  air. 
After  the  great  heat  had  flown  up  a  tempest  of  wind  and 
lightning  of  such  a  brightness  that  Nod,  peering  out  of  his 
little  tangled  window-hole,  could  see  beneath  the  gleaming 
rods  of  rain  and  the  huge,  bowed,  groaning  trees  no  less 
than  three  leopards  crouching  for  shelter  beneath  the 
Portingal's  sturdy  little  hut.  He  could  hear  them,  too, 
in  the  pauses  of  the  tempest,  mewling,  spitting,  and  swear- 
ing, and  the  lash  of  their  angry  tails  against  the  wall  of 
the    hut.     After    the    tempest,    it    fell    cold    and    very 

—26— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

still,  with  sometimes  a  moaning  in  the  air.  Strange 
weather  was  in  the  sky  at  rise  and  set  of  sun.  And  the 
three  brothers,  looking  out,  and  seeing  the  numberless 
flights  of  birds  winging  with  cries  all  in  one  direction,  and 
hearing  this  moaning,  hardly  knew  what  to  be  doing. 
They  went  out  every  day  to  gather  great  bundles  of  wood 
and  as  many  nuts  and  fruits  and  roots  as  they  could  carry. 
And  they  found  everywhere  wise  creatures  doing  the 
same — I  mean,  of  coui'se,  collecting  food — for  none  be- 
side the  INIinimuls,  the  Gungas,  and  the  INIulla-mulgars 
have  fire-sticks,  and  most  of  them  fear  even  the  sight  and 
smell  of  flames. 

And  Nod,  having  his  mother's  quick  hand,  made  a  great 
store  of  Manaka-cake  and  Sudd-bread.  He  dried  some 
fruits,  pulped  others.  And  some  he  poured  with  honey  or 
Ummuz- juice  into  the  Portingal's  little  earthen  pots, 
many  of  which  were  still  unbroken,  while  he  who  had  first 
used  them  was  but  a  bony  shadow-trap  in  the  corner.  And 
Nod  and  Thumb  made  two  great  gourds  of  Subbub,  very 
sweet  and  potent,  so  that,  because  of  the  sweet  smell  of  it, 
the  four-clawed  Weddervols  came  barking  about  their  hut 
all  night.  But  the  Manga-cheese  their  mother  had  made 
melted  in  the  heat  of  the  great  fires  they  burned,  and  most 
of  it  ran  down  out  of  the  cupboard.  They  filled  the  wood- 
hole  with  firewood,  and  stacked  it  outside,  above  Nod's 
shoulder,  all  against  the  hut. 

And  it  was  about  the  nineteenth  week  after  Mutta's 
death  that  Thumb,  as  he  came  stooping  to  the  door  one 
night,  saw  fires  of  Tishnar  on  the  ground.  Over  the 
swamp  stood  a  shaving  of  moon,  clear  as  a  bow  of  silver. 
And  all  about,  on  every  twig,  on  every  thorn,  and  leaf, 

—27— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

and  pebble;  all  along  the  nine-foot  grasses,  on  every 
cushion  and  toueh  of  bark,  even  on  the  walls  of  their  hut, 
lay  this  spanghng  fiery  meal  of  Tishnar — frost.  He 
called  his  brothers.  Their  breath  stood  round  them  like 
smoke.  They  stared  and  snuffed,  they  coughed  in  the 
cold  air.  Never,  since  birds  wore  feathers — never  had 
hoar-frost  glittered  on  Munza-mulgar  before. 

These  INIullas  danced;  they  crouched  down  in  the  dread- 
ful cold,  thinking  to  warm  their  hands  at  these  uncountable 
fires.  And,  lo  and  behold!  in  a  little  while,  looking  at  one 
another,  each  was  a  Mulgar,  white  and  sparkling  too. 
Their  very  hairs,  down-arm  and  up-arm,  every  tuft  stood 
stiff  and  white  with  frost.  Like  millers  they  stood,  all 
blazing  in  the  night. 

And  that  was  the  beginning  of  Witzaweelwiilla  (the 
White  Winter) .  For  it  was  only  three  days  after  Tish- 
nar's  fires  were  kindled  that  Nod  first  saw  snow.  Now 
one,  two,  three,  a  scatter  of  flakes,  just  a  few.  "Feath- 
ers," thought  Nod. 

But  faster,  faster;  twirling,  rustling,  hovering.  "But- 
terflies," thought  Nod. 

And  then  it  seemed  the  sky,  the  air,  was  all  aflock.  He 
ran  out  snuffing  and  frightened.  He  clapped  his  hands; 
he  leapt  and  frisked  and  shouted.  And  there,  coming  up 
out  of  the  swamp,  were  his  brothers,  laden  with  rushes, 
and  as  woolly  with  snow  as  sheep.  Because  it  looked  so 
white  and  crisp  and  beautiful  Nod  even  brought  out  a  pot 
and  filled  it  with  snow  to  cook  for  their  supper.  But 
there,  when  he  lifted  the  lid,  was  only  a  little  steaming 
water. 

By-and-by  they  began  to  wonder  and  to  fear  no  more. 

—28— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

How  glad  they  were  of  all  the  wood  they  had  brought  in, 
and  of  their  great  cupboardful  of  victuals!  They  made 
themselves  long  poles,  and  would  go  leaping  about  to  keep 
themselves  warm.  They  built  such  roaring  fires  on  the 
hearth  they  squatted  round  that  the  sparks  flew  up  like 
fireflies  under  the  black,  starry  sky.  Snug  in  their  hut, 
the  brothers  would  sit  of  an  evening  on  their  three  stools, 
with  their  smoking  bowls  between  their  legs.  And  they 
would  open  their  great  mouths  and  drone  and  sing  the 
songs  their  father  had  taught  them,  beating  to  the  notes 
with  their  flat  feet  on  the  earth  floor.  But,  nevertheless, 
they  pined  for  the  cold  and  the  snow  to  be  over  and  gone, 
so  that  they  might  start  on  their  journey!  Every  morning 
broke  bleak  and  sparkling.  Often  of  a  night  new  snow 
came,  till  they  walked  between  low  white  walls  on  their 
little  path  to  the  forest.  But  in  spite  of  the  cold  which 
made  them  ache  and  shiver,  and  their  toes  and  fingers 
burn  and  itch,  they  went  out  searching  for  frozen  nuts  and 
fruits  every  morning,  and  still  fetched  in  faggots. 

Often  while  they  squatted,  toasting  themselves  round 
their  fire.  Nod  would  look  up,  blinking  his  eyes,  to  see  the 
faces  of  the  Forest-mulgars  peeping  in  at  the  window, 
envying  the  Mullas  their  warmth,  though  afraid  of  their 
fire,  and  calling  softly  one  to  another:  "Ho,  ho!  look  at 
the  Mulla-sluggas  [lazy  princes]  sitting  round  their  fire!" 
And  Thumb  and  Thimble  would  grin  and  softly  scratch 
their  hairy  knees.  Thumb,  indeed,  made  up  a  Mulgar 
drone,  which  he  used  to  buzz  to  himself  when  the  Munza- 
mulgars  came  miching  and  mocking  and  peeping.  (But 
it  was  a  bad  and  dull  drone,  and  I  will  not  make  it  worse 
by  turning  it  into  my  poor  English  from  Mulgar-royal. ) 

—29— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Nod  often  sat  watching  the  Forest-mulgars  frisking  in 
the  forest,  though  every  morning  the  light  slione  through 
on  many  perched  frozen  in  the  houghs.  The  INIullahruks 
and  Manquahees  made  huddles  in  the  snow.  But  the  tiny 
Squirrel-tails,  with  their  dark,  grave,  beautiful  eyes  and 
silken  amber  coats,  still  roosted  high  where  the  frost-wind 
stirred  in  the  dark.  Sometimes  on  a  crusted  branch  of 
snow  Nod  would  see  five — seven — nine  of  these  tiny, 
frost-powdered  Mulgars  cuddling  together  in  a  row,  poor 
little  frozen  and  empty  boxes,  their  gay  lives  fled  away. 
And  when  his  brothers  were  gathering  sticks  in  the  forest, 
he  would  smuggle  out  for  them  two  or  three  handfuls  of 
nuts  and  pieces  of  cake  and  Sudd-bread.  All  the  crusts 
and  husks  and  morsels  he  kept  in  a  shallow  grass-basket, 
which  his  mother  had  plaited,  to  feed  these  pillowy  Squir- 
rel-tails, the  lean  Skeetoes,  and  the  spindle-legged  fly- 
catchers. 

Birds  of  all  colours  and  many  other  odd  little  beasts 
came  in  the  snow  to  Nod  to  be  fed.  He  summoned  them 
with  the  clapping  of  two  sticks  of  ivory  together,  till  his 
brothers  began  to  wonder  how  it  was  their  victuals  were 
dwindling  so  fast.  But  once,  when  Thumb  and  Thimble 
were  away  in  the  forest  with  their  jumping-poles,  and  he 
had  ventured  out  on  this  errand  with  his  basket  full  of 
scraps,  he  forgot  to  put  up  the  door  behind  him.  When 
he  returned,  skipping  as  fast  as  his  fours  would  carry 
him,  wild  pigs  and  long-snouted  Brackanolls,  Wedder- 
vols,  and  hungry  birds  had  come  in  and  eaten  more  than 
half  their  store.  The  last  of  their  mother's  treasured 
cheese  was  gone,  and  all  their  Ummuz-cane.  That  night 
Thumb  and  Thimble  went  very  sulky  to  bed.     And  for 

—30— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

the  next  few  days  all  three  brothers  sallied  out  together, 
with  their  poles,  searching  and  grubbing  after  every  scrap 
of  victuals  they  could  find  with  which  to  fill  their  larder 
again. 

Some  time  after  this,  so  hard  and  sharp  grew  the  cold 
that  Thumb  and  Thimble  were  minded  to  put  on  their  red 
metal-hooked  jackets  when  they  went  out  stick-gathering. 
They  took  their  knives  and  nut-sacks  over  their  shoulders, 
and  muffled  and  bunched  themselves  up  close,  with  cot- 
ton-leaves wound  round  their  stomachs,  and  their  skin 
caps  pulled  low  over  their  round  frost-enticing  ears.  And 
they  told  Nod  to  cook  them  a  smoking  hot  supper  against 
the  dark,  for  now  the  snow  was  so  deep  it  was  a  hard  mat- 
ter to  find  and  carry  sticks,  and  they  meant  to  look  for 
more  before  matters  worsened  yet.  So  Nod  at  once  set 
to  his  cookery. 

He  made  up  a  great  fire  on  the  hearthstone.  But  in 
spite  of  its  flames,  so  louring  with  gathering  snow-clouds 
was  the  day  that  he  had  to  keep  the  door  down  to  give  him 
clearer  light ;  and,  though  he  kept  scuttling  about,  driving 
out  the  thieving  Brackanolls  and  Peekodillies  that  came 
nosing  into  the  hut,  and  scaring  away  the  famished  birds 
that  kept  hopping  in  through  the  window-hole,  even  then 
he  could  not  keep  himself  warm.  So  at  last  he  went  to 
the  lower  cupboard,  under  the  dangling  Portingal,  and 
took  out  his  sheepskin  coat.  He  put  away  the  dried  king- 
fisher which  his  mother  had  wrapped  in  the  fleece  to  keep 
it  sweet,  and  buttoned  the  ivory  buttons,  and  skipped 
about  nimbly  over  his  cooking  in  that.  Then  he  heaped 
more  wood  on — logs  and  brush  and  smoulder- wood — 
higher  and  higher,  till  the  flames  leapt  red,  gold,  and 

—31— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

liclien-green  out  of  the  chimney-hole.  Then  he  said  to 
himself,  flinging  yet  another  armful  on:  "Now  Nod  will 
go  down  and  get  some  ice  to  melt  for  water  to  make  Sudd- 
bread."     So  he  went  down  to  the  water-spring. 

And  he  stood  watching  the  Mulgars  frisking  at  the  edge 
of  the  forest,  vain  that  they  should  see  him  with  his  pole 
and  basket,  standing  in  his  sheep's  jacket.  He  broke  up 
some  ice  and  put  in  into  his  basket.  Then  he  plodded  over 
to  his  mother's  grave  and  cleared  away  the  hardened  snow 
that  had  fallen  during  the  night  on  her  little  heap  of  stones. 
"Kara,  kara  Mutta,  JNIutta-matutta,"  he  whispered,  lay- 
ing his  bony  cheek  on  the  stones — "dearest  Mutta!" 
And  while  he  stood  there  thinking  of  his  mother,  and  of 
how  he  would  go  and  bring  down  a  pot  of  honeycomb  for 
her  death-shadow ;  and  then  of  his  father ;  and  then  of  the 
strange  journey  they  were  all  going  to  set  out  on  when 
Tishnar  returned  to  her  mountains;  and  then  of  his  Won- 
derstone ;  and  then  of  Assasimmon,  Prince  of  the  Valleys, 
his  peacocks  and  Ummuz-cane,  and  Ummuz-cane,  and 
Ummuz-cane — while  he  was  thus  softly  thinking  of  all 
these  happy  things,  he  suddenly  saw  the  gigantic  Ukka- 
tree  above  him,  lit  up  marvellously  red,  and  glowing  as 
if  with  the  setting  of  the  sun.  He  shut  his  eyes  with  dread, 
for  he  saw  all  the  forest  monkeys  lit  up  too,  stock-still, 
staring,  staring;  and  he  heard  a  curious  crackle  and 
whs-s-s-ss. 

Nod  turned  his  little  head  and  looked  back  over  his 
shoulder.  And  against  the  snowy  gloom  of  the  forest  he 
saw  not  only  sparks,  but  flames,  wagging  up  out  of  the 
chimney-hole.  The  door  of  the  hut  was  like  the  frame  of 
a  furnace.     And  a  trembling  fear  came  over  him,  so  that 

—32— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

for  a  moment  he  could  neither  breathe  nor  move.  Then, 
throwing  down  his  basket  of  ice,  and  caUing  softly, 
"Mutta,  O  Mutta!"  he  scrambled  over  the  snow  as  fast 
as  he  could  and  rushed  into  the  hut.  But  he  was  too  late ; 
before  he  could  jump,  spluttering  and  choking,  out  of  the 
door  again,  with  just  an  armful  of  anything  he  could  see, 
its  walls  were  ablaze.  Dry  and  tangled,  its  roof  burnt 
like  straw — a  huge  red  fire  pouring  out  smoke  and  flame, 
hissing,  gushing,  crackling,  bubbling,  roaring.  And 
presently  after,  while  Nod  ran  snapping  his  fingers,  danc- 
ing with  horror  in  the  snow,  and  calling  shriller  and  shriller, 

"Thumb,  Thimble;  Thimble,  Thumb, 
Leave  your  sticks  and  hurry  home: 
Thicker  and  thicker  the  smoke  do  come! 
Thumb,  Thimble;  Thimble,  Thumb!" 

he  heard  above  the  flames  a  multitudinous  howling  and 
squealing,  and  he  looked  over  his  shoulder,  and  saw  hun- 
dreds upon  hundreds  of  faces  in  the  forest  staring  out  be- 
tween the  branches  at  the  fire.  By  the  time  that  Thimble 
and  Thumb  in  their  red  jackets  were  scampering  on  all 
fours,  helter-skelter,  downhill  out  of  the  forest,  a  number- 
less horde  of  the  Forest-mulgars  were  frisking  and  howling 
round  the  blaze,  and  the  flames  were  floating  half  as  high 
as  Glint's  great  Ukka-tree.  They  squealed,  "Walla, 
walla!"  (water),  grinning  and  gibbering  one  to  another 
as  they  came  tumbhng  along;  but  they  might  just  as  well 
have  called  "Moonshine!"  for  every  drop  was  frozen. 
Nor  would  twenty  flowing  springs  and  all  Assasimmon's 
slaves  have  quenched  that  fire  now.  And  when  the  For- 
est-mulgars saw  that  the  Mulla-mulgars  had  given  up 

—33— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

hope  of  putting  the  fire  out,  they  pelted  it  with  snowballs, 
and  scampered  about,  gathering  up  every  stick  and  straw 
and  shred  they  could  find,  and  did  their  utmost  to  keep  it 
in.  For  at  last,  in  their  joy  that  the  little  Portingal's 
bones  were  in  the  burning,  and  in  their  envy  of  the  Mulla- 
mulgars,  their  fear  of  fire  was  gone. 

And  so  Night  came  down,  and  there  they  all  were,  hand- 
in-hand  in  a  huge  monkey-ring,  dancing  and  prancing 
round  the  little  Portingal's  burning  hut,  and  squealing  at 
the  top  of  their  voices;  while  countless  beasts  of  Munza- 
mulgar,  too  frightened  of  fire  to  draw  near,  prowled, 
with  flame-emblazoned  eyes,  staring  out  of  the  forest. 
And  this  was  the  Forest-mulgars'  dancing-song: 

"Bhoor  juggub  duppa   singlee — duppa   singlee — duppa   singlee; 

Bhoor  juggub  duppa  singlee; 

Sal  rosen  ghar  Bh65sh !" 

They  sing  at  first  in  a  kind  of  droning  zap-zap,  and  through 
their  noses,  these  Munza-mulgar,  their  yelps  gradually 
gathering  in  speed  and  volume,  till  they  lift  their  spell- 
bound faces  in  the  air  and  howl  aloud.  And  with  such  a 
resounding  shout  and  clamour  on  the  Bhoosh  you  would 
think  they  were  in  pain. 

For  the  best  part  of  that  night  the  fire  flared  and  smould- 
ered, while  the  stars  wheeled  in  the  black  sky  above  the 
forest;  and  still  round  and  round  the  JMulgars  jigged  and 
danced  in  the  glistening  snow.  For  the  frost  was  so  hard 
and  still,  not  even  this  great  fire  could  melt  it  fifteen  paces 
distant  from  its  flames.  And  Thimble  and  Thumb  in  their 
red  jackets,  and  Nod  in  his  cotton  breeches  and  sheepskin 
coat,  shivered  and  shook,  because  they  weren't  hardened, 

—34— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

like  the  Forest-mulgars,  to  the  icy  night-wind  that  stole 
fitfully  abroad. 

When  morning  broke,  the  fire  had  burned  down  to  a 
smother,  and  most  of  the  dancing  Mulgars  had  trooped 
back,  tired  out  and  sleepy,  to  their  tree-houses  and  huddles 
and  caverns  and  hanging  ropes  in  the  forest.  But  no 
sleep  stole  over  those  Mulla-sluggas,  Thumb,  Thimble,  and 
Nod,  sitting  on  their  stones  in  the  snow,  watching  their 
home-smoke  drooping  down  and  down.  Nod  stared  and 
stared  at  the  embers,  his  teeth  chattering,  ashamed  and 
nearly  heart-broken.  But  his  brothers  looked  now  at  the 
smoke,  and  now  at  him,  and  whenever  they  looked  at  Nod 
they  muttered,  "Fob!  Mulla-jugguba,  fob!" — that  is  to 
say,  "Fob!  Royal-Flame-Shining  One!"  or  "Your  High- 
ness Firebright !"  or  "What  think  you  now.  Prince  of  Bon- 
fires?" But  they  were  too  sullen  and  angry,  and  Nod 
was  too  downcast,  even  to  get  up  to  drive  away  the  little 
mole-skinned  Brackanolls  and  the  Peekodillies  which  came 
nosing  and  grunting  and  scratching  in  the  ashes,  in  search 
of  the  scorched  oil-nuts  and  the  charred  Sudd  and  Manaka- 
cake. 

The  three  JMulla-mulgars  sat  there  until  the  sun  began 
to  be  bright  on  their  faces  and  to  make  a  splendour  of  the 
snow;  then  they  did  not  feel  quite  so  cold  and  miser- 
able. And  when  they  had  nibbled  a  few  nuts  and 
berries  which  a  friendly  old  Manquabee  brought  down  to 
them,  they  began  to  think  and  talk  over  what  they  had  best 
be  doing  now — at  least.  Nod  listened,  while  Thumb  and 
Thimble  talked.  And  at  length  they  decided  that,  their 
hut  being  burnt,  and  they  without  refuge  from  the  cold, 
or  any  hoard  of  food,  they  would  wait  no  longer,  but  set 

—35— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

off  at  once  into  the  forest  on  the  same  long  journey  as 
their  father  Seelem  had  gone,  to  seek  out  their  Uncle  As- 
sasimmon,  Prince  of  the  Valleys  of  Tishnar. 

This  once  said,  Thumb  lifted  his  fat  body  stiffly  from 
his  stone,  and  took  his  jumping-pole,  and  frisked  high, 
leaping  to  and  fro  to  make  himself  warm  again.  Soon  he 
began  to  tingle,  and  laughed  out  to  cheer  the  others  when 
he  tumbled  head  over  heels  into  a  snowdrift.  And  they 
combed  themselves,  and  stood  up  to  their  trouble,  and 
thought  stubbornly,  as  far  as  their  monkey-wits  would 
let  them,  only  of  the  future  (which  is  easier  to  manage  than 
the  past) .  Then  they  searched  close  in  the  coohng  ashes 
and  embers  of  the  hut,  and  found  a  few  beads  undimmed 
by  the  heat,  and  all  the  Margarita  stones,  which,  like  the 
Salamander,  no  flame  can  change;  also,  one  or  two  un- 
broken pots  and  jars  and  an  old  stone  kettle  or  Ghob. 
Nod,  indeed,  found  also  a  piece  of  gold  that  had  lain  hid 
in  the  Portingal's  rags.  But  all  the  little  Traveller's 
bones  except  his  left  thumb  knuckle-bone  were  fallen  to 
ashes.  Nod  gave  Thumb  the  noddle  of  gold,  and  himself 
kept  the  knuckle-bone.  "Sootli,"  ^  he  whispered,  touched 
his  nose  with  it,  and  put  it  secretly  into  his  pocket.  And 
glad  were  they  to  think  that  only  that  morning  they  had 
fetched  out  their  red  jackets  and  Nod  his  wool  coat. 

When  the  Forest-mulgars  heard  that  the  three  brothers 
were  setting  out  on  their  long  journey,  they  came  trooping 
down  from  their  leafy  villages,  carrying  presents,  two 
skin  water-bags    (for  the  longed-for  time  when  the  ice 

1  That  is,  Magic,  or  Strangeness.  When  the  Mulgars  of  Munza  see  any- 
thing strange  or  unknown,  they  will  whimper  to  one  another,  as  they  stand 
with  eyes  fixed,  "Sootli,  Sootli,  Sootli,"  or  some  such  sound, 

—36— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

should  bestir  itself) ,  a  rough  stone  knife,  a  wild-bee  honey- 
comb, a  plaited  bag  of  dried  Nanoes  and  nuts,  and  so  on. 
But  of  these  Mulgar  tribes  few,  hke  ants,  or  bees,  or  squir- 
rels, make  any  store,  and  none  uses  fire,  nor,  save  one  or 
two  solitaries  here  and  there,  can  any  walk  upright  or  carry 
a  cudgel.  They  munch  and  frisk  and  chatter,  and  scratch 
and  quarrel  and  mock,  having  their  own  ways  and  wisdom 
and  their  own  musts  and  mustn'ts.  There  are  few,  too, 
that  cherish  not  some  kindness,  if  not  for  all,  at  least  for 
one  another — the  leopard  to  her  cubs,  the  Coccadrillo  to 
her  eggs.     But  back  to  our  Mulla-mulgars. 

The  forest  of  Munza-mulgar  saw  a  feast  upon  its  bor- 
ders that  day.  The  Forest-mulgars  sat  in  a  great  ring, 
and  ate  and  drank,  and  when  the  sun  had  ascended  into  the 
middle  of  the  sky  and  the  snow-piled  branches  shone  white 
as  Tishnar's  lambs.  Thumb,  Thimble,  and  Nod,  rose  up 
and  sang,  "Gar  Mulgar  Dusangee" — the  Mulgars' 
Farewell.  While  they  sang,  all  the  Forest-mulgars,  in 
their  companies  and  tribes,  sat  solemnly  around  them, 
furred  and  coloured  and  pouched  and  tailed.  Shave  their 
chops  and  put  them  in  breeches,  they  might  well  be  little 
men.  And  they  waved  slowly  palm-branches  and  green- 
ery to  the  time  of  the  tune ;  some  even  moaned  and  grunted, 
too. 

*'Far  away  in  Nanga-noon 

Lived  an  old  and  grey  Baboon,* 
Ah-mi,  Sulani ! 

Once  a  Prince  among  his  kind, 

Now  forsaken,  left  behind. 

Feeble,  lonely,  all  but  blind: 
Sulani,  ghar  magleer. 
1  So  I  have  translated  "Babbabooma." 

—37— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"Peaceful  Tishnar  came  by  night, 
In  the  moonbeams  cold  and  white; 

Ah-mi,  Sulani! 
*Far  away  from  Nanga-noon, 
Thou  old  and  grey  Baboon ; 
Is  a  journey  for  thee  soon!' 
Sulani,  ghar  magleer. 


« < 


Be  not  frightened,  shut  thine  eye; 
Comfort  take,  nor  weep,  nor  sigh; 
Solitary  Tishnar's  nigh !' 
Sulani,  ghar  magleer. 

"Old  Baboon,  he  gravely  did 
All  that  peaceful  Tishnar  bid ; 

Ah-mi,  Sulani ! 
In  the  darkness  cold  and  grim 
Drew  his  blanket  over  him ; 
Closed  his  old  eyes,  sad  and  dim : 

Sulani,  ghar  magleer." 

And  here  the  Mulgars  all  lay  flat,  with  their  faces  in  the 
snow,  and  put  the  palms  of  their  hands  on  their  heads; 
while  the  three  ]Mulla-mulgars  paced  slowly  round,  sing- 
ing the  last  verse,  which,  after  the  doggerel  I  have  made  of 
the  others,  I  despair  of  putting  into  English: 

"Talaheeti  sul  magloon 
Olgar,  ulgar  Nanga-noon; 

Ah-mi,  Sulani ! 
Tishnar  sootli  maltmahee, 
Ganganareez  soongalee, 
Manni  INIulgar  sang  suwhee: 
Sulani,  ghar  magleer." 

—38— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Then  the  Mulla-mulgars  cut  down  stout  boughs  to 
make  cudgels,  and,  having  tied  up  their  few  possessions 
into  three  bundles  and  filled  their  pockets  with  old  nuts, 
they  took  palm-leaves  and  honey-comb  and  withered  scar- 
let and  green  berries,  with  which  they  canopied  as  best 
they  could  their  mother's  grave,  nor  forgot  poor  glutton- 
ous Glint's.  They  stood  there  in  the  snow,  and  raised  their 
hands  in  lamentable  salutation.  And  each  took  up  a  stone 
and  jerked  it  (for  they  cannot  throw  as  men  do)  as  far  as 
he  could  towards  the  forest,  as  if  to  say,  "Go  with  us!" 
Then,  with  one  last  sorrowful  look  at  the  befrosted  ashes 
of  their  hut,  they  took  up  their  bundles  and  started  on 
their  journey. 

At  first,  as  I  have  said,  the  Mulgar-track  is  wide,  and 
even  in  this  continually  falling  snow  was  beaten  clear  by 
hundreds  of  hand  and  foot  prints.  But  after  a  while  the 
lofty  branches  began  to  knit  themselves  above,  and  to  hang 
thickly  over  the  travellers,  and  to  shut  out  the  light.  And 
the  path  grew  faint  and  narrow. 

One  by  one  their  friends  waved  good-bye  and  left  them, 
until  only  Noll  and  Nunga  (Mutta-matutta's  only  sister's 
only  children)  accompanied  them.  Just  before  sunset, 
when  the  forest  seemed  like  a  cage  of  music  with  the  voices 
of  the  birds  that  now  sang,  many  of  them  desperately  from 
cold  and  hunger  rather  than  for  delight,  Noll,  too,  and 
Nunga  raised  their  hands,  touched  noses,  and  said  good- 
bye. And  the  three  brothers  stood  watching  them  till 
they  had  waved  their  branches  for  the  last  time.  Then 
they  went  on. 


-39- 


CHAPTER  III 


It  was  now,  what  with  the  snow  and  what  with  natural 
evening,  growing  quickly  dark.  The  birds  had  ceased 
to  sing;  only  the  Munza  night- jar  rattled.  Now  near, 
now  far  away,  the  Mulla-mulgars  heard  the  beasts  of  the 
forest  beginning  to  range  and  roar  in  the  gloom.  Nod 
buttoned  up  his  sheep's  jacket,  for  there  was  a  frost-mist 
beneath  the  trees.  He  was  cold,  and  began  to  be  tired  and 
very  homesick.  But  Thumb  was  broad  and  fat  and  pro- 
digiously strong.  Thimble  lean  and  sinewy.  And  when 
Thumb  saw  that  Nod  went  stumbling  under  his  bundle, 
he  said:  "Give  it  to  me,  Mulla-jugguba!"  (Prince  of 
Bonfires).     And  Thimble  laughed. 

But  Nod  refused  to  give  up  his  bundle,  and  trudged  on 
behind  his  brothers,  until  night  came  down  in  earnest. 
Then,  when  it  was  quite  dark,  after  listening  and  mutter- 
ing together,  they  thought  that  if  they  spent  the  night 

—40— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

down  here  they  would  certainly  sleep  "in  danger."  So 
Thumb  clambered  into  a  great  Ollaconda-tree,  and  let 
down  a  rope  or  twist  of  the  thick  creeper  called  Cullum, 
and  drew  up  all  three  bundles.  Then  Thimble  pushed 
and  Thumb  pulled,  and  up  went  Nod,  too  stiff  and  cold  to 
climb  up  by  himself,  after  the  bundles,  sheep's- jacket  and 
all.  Then  Thimble  climbed  up  too.  They  made  their 
supper  of  Mulgar-bread  and  frost-cockled  Mambel-ber- 
ries,  which  are  sour  and  quench  the  thirst,  and  drank  or 
sucked  splinters  of  ice,  plenty  of  which  hung  glassy  in  the 
great,  still,  winter-troubled  tree.  And  for  fear  of  leopards 
(or  "Roses,"  as  their  Munza  name  signifies),  they  agreed 
to  keep  watch  in  turn,  Thumb  first,  then  Thimble,  then 
Nod.  They  tied  their  bundles  to  the  boughs,  chose 
smooth  forks  to  squat  in,  and  soon  Thimble  was  fast  asleep. 

But  when  Nod  found  himself  alone  in  the  midst  of  the 
great  icy  tree  in  the  black  forest,  he  could  not  sleep  for 
thinking  of  it.  He  stroked  his  face  with  his  brown  hand 
over  and  over  to  keep  his  eyes  shut.  He  nuzzled  down 
into  his  sheep's- jacket.  He  counted  his  fingers  again  and 
again.  He  repeated  the  lingo  of  the  Seventy-seven  Trav- 
ellers from  beginning  to  end.  It  was  in  vain.  Far  and 
near  he  heard  the  cries  and  wanderings  of  the  forest  beasts ; 
the  Ollaconda-tree  was  full  of  the  nests  of  the  weaver- 
birds;  and,  worse  still,  soon  Thimble  began  to  snore  so 
loud  and  so  sorrowfully  that  poor  Nod  trembled  where 
he  sat.  He  could  bear  himself  no  longer.  He  stooped 
forward  and  called  softly:  "Thumb,  my  brother,  are  you 
awake.  Thumb?" 

"Sleep  on,  little  Ummanodda,"  said  Thumb;  "if  I 
watch,  I  watch." 

—41— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"But  I  cannot  sleep,"  said  Nod;  "these  weavers  chat- 
ter so." 

Thumb  laughed.  "Thimble  sings  in  his  dreams,"  he 
said.     "Why  shouldn't  the  little  tailors  sing,  too?" 

"Do  you  think  any  leopards  will  come?"  said  Nod. 

"Think  good  things,  my  brother,  not  bad,"  Thumb  an- 
swered. "But  this  we  will  do — wait  a  little  while  awake, 
and  I  will  sleep,  and  as  soon  as  sleep  begins  to  come,  call 
me  and  wake  me;  then,  little  brother,  you  shall  sleep  in 
peace  till  morning." 

He  put  his  head  under  his  arm  without  waiting  for 
an  answer;  and  soon,  even  louder  and  more  dismal  than 
Thimble's,  rose  Thumb's  snoring  into  the  Ollaconda- 
tree. 

Nod  sat  cold  and  stiff,  his  eyes  stretched  open,  his  ears 
twitching.  And  a  thin  moonlight  began  to  tremble  be- 
tween the  leaves.  The  light  cheered  his  spirits,  and  he 
thought,  "Nod  will  soon  feel  sleepy  now,"  when  suddenly 
out  of  the  gloom  of  the  forest  burst  a  sounder  or  drove  of 
wild  pig,  scuffling  and  chuggling  beneath  the  tree.  Peep- 
ing down.  Nod  could  just  see  them  in  the  faint  moonshine, 
with  their  long,  black,  hairy  ears  and  tufted  tails. 

And  presently,  while  they  were  grubbing  in  the  snow, 
one  lifted  up  its  snout  and  cried  in  a  loud  voice:  "Co-older 
— and  colder!" 

"Co-older — and  colder,"  cried  another. 

"Co-older — and  colder,"  cried  a  third.  And  all  silently 
grubbed  on  as  before. 

"The  Queen  of  the  Mountains  is  in  the  Forest,"  began 
the  first  again,  "with  fingers  of  frost." 

"And  shoulders  of  snow." 

—42— 


DPLoH^-c.^) 


"THE    yUEEN    t)l     THE    MoUNlAlNS    IS    IN    THE 
FOREST      .     .     .      WITH      FINGERS     OF      FROST. 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"And  feet  of  ice,"  screamed  the  third. 

"The  Queen  of  the  Mountains,"  they  grunted  all  to- 
gether; and  went  on  burrowing,  and  shouldering,  and 
faintly  squeaking. 

"Hungrier  and  hungrier,"  cried  one  in  a  shrill  voice, 
suddenly  lifting  its  head,  so  that  Nod  could  see  quite 
clearly  its  pale  green,  greedy  slits  of  eyes. 

"Leaner  and  leaner,"  answered  another. 

"All  the  Sudd  hid,  all  the  Ukkas  gone,  all  the  Boobab 
frozen!"  squealed  a  third. 

"The  Queen  of  the  Mountains  is  in  the  Forest,"  they 
grunted  all  together.  But  the  pig  that  had  looked  up  into 
the  tree  was  still  staring — staring  and  wrinkling  his  nar- 
row snout,  till  at  last  all  the  pigs  stopped  feeding.  "Pigs, 
my  brothers;  pigs,  my  brothers,"  he  muttered.  "Up  in 
this  tree  are  Mulgar  three,  which  travellers  be.  .  .  .  Ho, 
there!"  But  Nod  thought  it  best  to  make  no  answer. 
And  the  pig  turned  round  and  beat  with  his  hind-feet 
against  the  bole  or  trunk  of  the  Ollaconda.  "Ho,  there, 
little  Mulgar  in  the  sheep-skin  coat!" 

"If  you  beat  like  that,  homy-foot,  you'll  wake  my 
brothers,"  said  Nod. 

"Brothers!"  said  the  pig  angrily.  "What's  brothers 
to  Ukka-nuts?  What's  your  names,  and  where  are  you 
going?" 

"My  brothers'  names,"  said  Nod,  "are  Thumma  and 
ThimbuUa,  and  I  am  Nod.  We  are  going  to  the  palace 
of  ivory  and  Azmamogreel  that  is  our  Uncle  Assasim- 
mon's.  Prince  of  the  Valleys  of  Tishnar."  At  that  all  the 
pigs  began  muttering  together. 

"Come  down  and  tell  us!"  said  a  lean  yellow  pig;  and 

—43— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

as  he  snapped  his  jaws  Nod  saw  in  the  moonbeam  the 
frost-light  bhnking  on  his  bristles. 

"Tell  you  what?"  said  Nod. 

"About  this  Prince  of  Tishnar.  Oh,  these  false- 
tongued  Mulgars!"     Nod  made  no  answer. 

Then  a  fat  old  she-pig  began  speaking  in  a  soft,  pleas- 
ant voice.  "You  must  be  very,  very  rich,  Prince  Nod, 
with  those  great  bags  of  nuts ;  and,  surely,  it  must  be  royal 
Sudd  I  smell!  And  Assasimmon  his  uncle!  whose  house 
is  more  than  a  thousand  pigs'-tails  long;  and  gardens  so 
thick  with  trees  of  fruit  and  honey,  one  groans  to  have 
only  one  stomach.  Come  down  a  little  way.  Prince  Nod, 
and  tell  us  poor  hungry  pigs  of  the  royal  Assasimmon  and 
the  dainty  food  he  eats." 

So  pleasant  was  her  flattering  voice  Nod  thought  there 
could  not  possibly  be  any  harm  in  scrambling  down  just 
one  or  two  branches.  And  though  his  fingers  were  still 
stiff  with  cold,  he  began  to  edge  down. 

"Oh,  but  bring  a  bundle — bring  a  bundle,  little  Prince. 
It's  cold  for  gentlefolk  sitting  in  the  snow." 

"Pigs — pigs  must  naked  go;  but  not  for  gentlefolk 
the  snow,"  squealed  the  herd  shrilly. 

"Come  gently.  Prince  Nod;  do  not  stir  your  royal 
brothers,  Prince  Nod!"  said  the  old  crafty  one. 

Nod  listened  to  her  flattery,  and,  having  untied  his 
precious  bundle,  he  slid  down  with  it  softly  to  the  ground. 

"A  seat — a  seat  for  Prince  Nod,"  cried  the  old  sow. 
"Oh,  what  a  royal  jacket — oh,  what  a  handsome  jacket!" 
So  Nod  sat  down  on  his  bundle  in  the  moonlight  of  the 
snow,  and  all  the  wild  pig,  scenting  his  Sudd,  pressed  close 
— forty  wild  pig  at  least. 

—44— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"Assasimmon,  Assasimmon,  Prince  of  Tishnar,  Prince 
of  Tishnar,"  they  kept  grunting,  and  at  every  word  they 
squeezed  and  edged  closer  and  closer,  their  hungry  snouts 
in  air — closer  and  closer,  till  Nod  had  to  hold  tight  to 
keep  his  seat;  closer  and  closer,  and  again  they  began 
squealing:  "Pigs  are  hungry,  brother  Nod.  Cakes  of 
Sudd,  cakes  of  Sudd!"  And  then,  like  a  great  scram- 
bling wave  of  pigs,  they  rushed  at  him  all  together.  Over 
went  Nod  into  the  snow.  Scores  of  little  sharp  hoofs 
scuttled  over  him.  And  when  at  last  he  was  able  to 
get  up  and  look  about  him,  bruised  and  scratched  and 
breathless,  no  trace  of  pigs  was  there,  no  trace  of  bundle; 
every  nut  and  crust  of  Sudd  and  crumb  of  pulpy  Mulgar- 
bread  was  gone.  And  suddenly  came  a  loud,  harsh  voice 
out  of  the  tree.  "Ho,  ho,  and  ahoh!  What's  the  trouble? 
what's  the  trouble?"  Nod  looked  up,  and  saw  Thumb 
and  Thimble  staring  down  between  their  out-stretched 
arms  through  the  moon-silvery  leaves.  And  he  told  them, 
trembling,  of  how  he  could  not  sleep,  and  about  the  pigs 
and  the  bundle. 

"O  most  wise  Nizza-neela!"  said  Thumb  when  he  had 
finished.  "Last  night  Mulla-jugguba;  this  night  Nodda- 
nellipogo"  (Prince  of  Bonfires,  Noddle  of  Pork).  But 
Thimble  was  too  sore  to  say  anything,  for  his  little  Exx- 
swixxia-book  of  sorcery  had  been  stuffed  into  Nod's  bun- 
dle, and  now  it  was  lost  for  ever.  And  they  left  Nod  to 
climb  up  again  by  himself.  Once  safely  back  on  his  fork, 
he  was  so  tired  and  miserable  that,  with  his  hands  over  his 
face,  he  fell  almost  directly  fast  asleep. 

When  he  opened  his  small  clear  eyes  again,  sunrise  was 
glinting  here  and  there  through  the  green  twlight  on  the 

—45— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

icicles  and  snow  in  the  trees.  He  looked  down,  and  saw 
Thumb  and  Thimble  combing  themselves.  So  down  he 
went,  too,  and  took  off  his  jacket,  and  skipped  and  frisked 
till  he  grew  warm.  Then  he,  too,  combed  himself,  and 
went  and  sat  down  beside  his  brothers  at  the  foot  of  the 
Ollaconda-tree  to  eat  his  morning's  share  of  musty  nuts. 
At  first  his  brothers  sat  angry  and  sullen,  munching  with 
their  great  dog-teeth,  and  seeming  to  begrudge  him  every 
Ukka-nut  he  cracked.  But  as  the  daybeams  brightened, 
here  where  the  trees  grew  not  so  dense,  and  the  birds,  some 
wellnigh  as  small  as  acorns,  flashed  and  zigzagged,  and 
Parrakeetoes  squeaked  and  screamed  in  hundreds  on  the 
branches,  watching  the  three  hungry  travellers,  they  began 
to  forget  Nod's  supper  with  the  pigs.  And  when  they  had 
eaten,  into  the  gloom  of  Munza  they  set  out  once  more. 

As  a  dog  smells  out  the  footsteps  of  his  master  so  these 
Mulla-mulgars  seemed  to  smell  out  their  way.  No  path 
was  to  be  seen  except  where  pig-droves  had  rambled  by, 
or  droves  of  Mullabruks  and  packs  of  Munza-dogs.  And 
once  Thumb,  on  a  sudden,  stood  still,  and  pointed  to  the 
ground,  opening  his  great  grinning  mouth,  with  its  little 
wall  of  glistening  teeth,  and  muttered,  "Roses!"  They 
stood  together  looking  down  at  the  frozen  footprints  of  a 
mother-leopard  and  her  cubs  in  the  fresh-laid  snow.  Nod 
fancied,  even,  he  could  smell  her  breath  on  the  icy  air. 
After  this  they  went  forward  more  warily,  but  carried  their 
cudgels  with  a  bravery,  looking  very  fierce  in  their  red 
jackets  and  great  caps  of  furry  skins.  And,  after  a  while, 
the  huge  trees  gathered  in  again,  and  soon  arched  loftily 
overhead  as  thick  as  thatch,  so  that  it  was  all  in  a  cold  and 
sluggish  gloom  they  walked,  like  the  dusk  of  coming  night. 

—46— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Nor,  so  thick  was  the  leafy  roof  overhead,  had  any  snow 
floated  into  its  twilight.  Only  a  rare  frost  shimmered  on 
the  spiky  husks  of  fruit  thrown  down  by  the  Tree-mulgars. 
Huge  frozen  ropes  of  Cullum  and  wild  Pepper  dangled  in 
knots  and  loops  from  bough  to  bough,  and  sometimes  a 
troop  of  Squirrel-tails  or  spidery  Skeetoes  swung  lightly 
down  these  hoar-frost  ropes,  chattering  and  scolding  at  the 
three  strangers.  But  though  Thumb  called  to  them  in 
their  own  tongue.  "Ullalullaubbajub,"  or  some  such 
sounds  as  that,  meaning,  "We  are  friends,"  they  skipped 
off,  hand,  foot,  and  tail,  into  their  leafy  roofs  and  sha- 
dows, afraid  of  these  cudgel-carrying  travellers  in  their 
red  jackets,  who  walked,  like  the  dreaded  Oomgar,  heads 
in  air. 

Yet  Nod  was  glad  even  of  such  company  as  this,  so 
silent  was  the  forest.  In  this  darkness  they  sat  and  ate 
their  handful  of  food,  with  scorpions  and  speckled  tree- 
spiders  watching  them  from  their  holes,  not  knowing 
where  the  sun  was,  nor  daring  to  kindle  a  fire  with  their 
fire-sticks  for  fear  of  the  tree-shadows.  And  at  night 
they  slept  huddled  close  together  for  warmth  and  safety, 
while  Thumb  and  Thimble  kept  watch  in  turn. 

In  this  way  many  days  passed  almost  without  bhnk  of 
sunlight.  Once  and  again  they  would  sidle  over  some 
pig-track,  or  stand,  with  club  in  hand,  to  watch  a  leopard 
pass.  And  often  troops  of  Mulgars  kept  pace  with  them 
awhile,  swinging  from  branch  to  branch,  and  chattering 
threats  at  the  travellers.  But  most  of  the  forest  creatures, 
parched  and  famished  by  such  a  cold  as  had  never  fallen 
on  Munza-mulgar  before,  had  been  driven  down  out  of 
the  forest  in  search  of  food  and  warmth.       And  often 

—47— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

the  travellers  were  compelled  to  search  the  bark  of  the 
trees  and  in  the  crevices  of  rocks  and  under  stones,  as  do 
the  Babbaboomas,  and  eat  whatever  creeping  things  they 
could  find.  Beside  the  dangling  Skeetoes,  and  now  and 
then  father,  mother,  and  chidderkins  of  some  old  sour- 
faced  mournful  ^lullabruk,  they  saw  few  things  living, 
except  the  little  ivory -gnawing  M'boko,  Peekodillies,  and 
poison-spiders.  But  many  of  these,  too,  had  died  of  cold 
and  hunger.  And  now,  instead  of  the  pale  green  and  am- 
ber lamps  of  firefly  and  glowworm,  burned  only  the  fires 
of  Tishnar's  frost.  Birds  rarely  ventured  down  into  this 
snowy  shadowland,  except  only  the  tiny  Telateuties,  blood- 
red  as  ladybirds,  that  ran  chittering  up  the  trees.  These 
birds  haunt  only  where  daylight  rarely  steals,  and  it  is 
said  they  talk  with  the  tree-spirits,  or  giant  Noomas,  that 
roam  these  shades. 

At  last,  their  feet  sore  with  poison-needles,  which  some- 
times pierced  clean  through  their  thick  skins,  their  eyes 
aching  with  the  darkness,  the  three  travellers,  on  the  eighth 
day,  broke  out  of  the  dense  forest  into  broad  daylight  and 
shining  snow  again.  Down  and  down  they  descended  into 
a  frozen  swampy  valley.  And  about  noon,  half  hidden  in 
the  fume  and  steam  of  their  own  breath,  they  saw  a  great 
herd  or  muster  of  Ephelantoes  feeding.  They  stood  in 
a  line  beyond  Nod's  Counting — big,  middling-sized,  and 
little — tearing  down  the  rime-laden  branches  of  the  trees, 
whose  leaves  and  fruits  they  first  warmed  with  their  bel- 
lows-breath before  stuffing  them  into  their  mouths.  The 
swampy  ground  shook  with  their  tramplings.  Nod  gazed 
in  wonder  as  he  and  his  brothers,  marching  abreast,  paced 
softly  but  doggedly  on.     And  very  soon  the  watchful 

—48— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

eyes,  that  glitter  small  in  the  great  stone-coloured  heads 
of  these  mountainous  beasts,  perceived  the  red  jackets 
moving  betwixt  the  grasses.  And  a  silence  came;  the 
beasts  stopped  feeding. 

"Meelmutha  glaren  djhar!"  muttered  Thumb. 

So  the  Mulla-mulgars  pushed  quietly  and  bravely  on, 
without  turning  their  heads  or  letting  their  eyes  wander. 
For  it  is  said  that  there  is  nothing  frets  and  angers  these 
monsters  so  much  as  a  watchful  eye.  They  leave  their 
feeding  and  wallowing,  even  the  big  Shes  their  suckling. 
Their  great  bodies  trembling,  they  stand  in  disquiet  and 
unrest  if  but  just  one  small  clear  eye  beneath  its  lid  be 
fixed  too  close  or  earnestly  upon  them.  Oomgars,  Mul- 
gars,  leopards — even  down  to  the  brooding  Mullabruk, 
with  its  clay-coloured  face — they  abhor  all  scrutiny.  But 
why  this  is  so  I  cannot  say. 

It  may  be,  then,  that  Nod,  in  his  first  wonder,  dwelt 
too  lingeringly  with  his  eye  on  these  Lords  of  Munza: 
for  a  behemothian  bull-Ephelanto,  with  one  of  his  tusks 
broken,  lurched  forward  through  the  long  grasses,  his  tail 
stock-stiff  behind  him,  and  stood  in  their  path.  And  as  the 
Mulgar  travellers  passed  him  by,  he  wound  his  long,  two- 
fingered  trunk  round  Nod's  belly,  shook  him  softly,  and 
lifted  him  high  above  the  sedge  into  the  air. 

At  this  many  other  of  the  Eph^lantoes  stamped  across 
the  swamp  and  stood  in  the  mist  around  him.  Nod's  hand 
was  in  his  pocket  and  pressed  against  his  slim  thigh-bone, 
and  there,  hard  and  round,  he  felt  as  in  a  dream  his  Won- 
derstone.  And  he  caught  back  his  fears,  and  thus,  up 
aloft,  twenty  feet  or  more  between  earth  and  sky,  he 
twisted  his  head  and  said  softly:     "Deal  with  the  Nizza- 

—49— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

neela  gently,  Lord  of  the  Forest;  we  are  servants  of 
Tishnar."  At  the  sound  of  the  name  of  Tishnar  all  the 
Ephelantoes  lifted  up  their  trunks,  and  with  a  great  hlast 
trumpeted  in  unison.  Whereupon  the  buU-Ephelanto 
that  had,  half  in  sport,  tossed  Nod  up  into  the  air  set  him 
gently  on  the  earth  again.  And  the  three  brothers,  hasten- 
ing their  hobbling  pace  a  little,  journeyed  on  once  more. 


p.T.t. 


-50— 


CHAPTER  IV 

A  LITTLE  before  evening  Thumb  suddenly  stopped,  and 
stood  listening.  They  went  on  a  little  farther,  and  again 
he  stood  still,  with  lifted  head,  snuffing  the  air.  And  soon 
they  all  heard  plainly  the  sound  of  a  great  river.  In  the 
last  light  of  sunset  the  travellers  broke  out  of  the  forest 
and  looked  down  on  the  waters  of  the  deep  and  swollen 
Obea-munza.  Along  its  banks  grew  giant  sedge,  stiff 
and  grey  with  frost  like  meal.  In  this  sedge  little  birds 
were  disporting  themselves,  flitting  and  twittering,  with 
long  plumes  of  every  colour  that  changes  in  the  sunlight, 
brushing  off  with  their  tiny  wings  the  gathered  hoar- 
frost into  the  still  sunset  air.  The  Mulgars  stood  like 
painted  wooden  images,  with  their  bundles  and  cudgels, 
staring  down  at  the  river,  wide  and  tiu'bulent,  its  gloomy 
hummocks  of  ice  and  frozen  snow  nodding  down  upon  the 
pale  green  waters.     They  glanced  at  one  another  as  if 

—51— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Avitli  the  question  on  their  faces,  "How  now,  O  Mulla- 
mulgars?" 

"  'His  country  lies  beyond  and  beyond,'  "  muttered 
Thimble.  "  'Forest  and  river,  forest,  swamp,  and  river.' 
Could,  then,  our  father  Seelem  walk  on  water?" 

Thumb  coughed  in  his  throat.  "What  matters  it?  He 
went:  we  follow,"  he  grunted  stubbornly.  "We  must 
journey  on  till  our  wings  grow,  Mulla  Thimble,  or  till 
your  long  legs  can  straddle  bank  to  bank."  And  they  all 
three  stared  in  silence  again  at  the  swirling  icy  water. 

Now,  it  was  just  beginning  to  be  twilight,  which  is  many 
times  more  brief  than  England's  in  Munza,  and  the  frozen 
forest  was  utterly  still  in  the  fading  rose  and  purple,  the 
beasts  not  yet  having  come  down  to  drink.  And  while 
the  travellers  stood  listening,  there  came,  as  it  were  from 
afar  off,  the  beating  of  a  drum — seven  hollow  beats,  and 
then  silence. 

"What  in  Munza,  Thumb,  makes  a  noise  like  that?" 
Nod  whispered.     "Listen,  listen!" 

They  all  three  hearkened  again,  with  heads  bent  and  eyes 
fixed,  and  soon  once  more  they  heard  the  hollow  drum- 
ming.    Thumb  shook  his  head  uneasily. 

"It  is  wary  walking,  my  brothers,"  he  said;  "maybe 
there  are  Oomgar-nuggas  [black  men]  by  the  riverside;  or 
maybe  it  is  one  of  the  great  hairy  Gunga-mulgars  whose 
country  our  father  Seelem  told  me  lies  five  days'  journey 
towards  the  daybreak.  Whicheversoever,  Mulla-mulgars, 
we  will  hobble  on  and  discover." 

Thimble  dropped  lightly,  and  rested  on  all-fours  a  mo- 
ment. His  eyes  squinted  a  little,  for  he  greatly  feared 
the  drumming  they  had  heard. 

—52— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

But  Thumb,  moving  softly,  edged  watchfully  on,  and 
Thimble -and  Nod  followed  as  he  led  along  the  reedy  bank 
of  the  river.  Ever  and  again  they  heard  the  drumming 
repeated,  but  it  seemed  no  less  distant,  so  they  squatted 
down  to  eat  while  there  was  light  enough  in  the  sky  to 
find  the  way  from  fingers  to  mouth.  They  sat  down  un- 
der a  twisted  Boobab-tree,  opened  their  bundles,  and  took 
out  the  frosted  nuts  and  fruits  which  they  had  lately  gath- 
ered for  their  supper.  But  it  was  so  bitterly  cold  by  the 
waterside  Nod  could  scarcely  crack  his  shells  between  his 
chattering  teeth.  And  now  the  waning  moon  was  begin- 
ning to  silver  river  and  forest.  From  the  farther  bank 
rose  the  cries  of  Munza's  beasts  come  down  to  drink, 
mournful,  lean,  and  fierce  from  hunger  and  cold.  Soon 
the  long-billed  river-birds  began  their  night-talk  across 
the  water.  And  while  the  Mulgars  were  sitting  silently 
munching,  out  of  the  shadow  before  their  faces  came  on 
her  soundless  pads  a  young  she-leopard,  and  with  cat- 
like fac«  stood  regarding  them. 

Thumb  and  Thimble  dropped  softly  their  hands,  and 
very  slowly  stooped  their  stiff-haired  heads.  But  the 
leopard,  after  regarding  them  awhile,  and  seeing  them 
to  be  three  together  and  Mulgars-royal,  drew  back 
her  head,  yawned,  and  leapt  lightly  back  into  the  shad- 
owy grasses  from  which  she  had  stolen  out.  "One  Roses 
brings  many,"  said  Thumb  sourly;  "let  us  hobble 
on,  Mulla-mulgars,  until  we  find  a  quieter  sleeping- 
place." 

But  it  was  now  so  dark  beside  the  river  that  the  Mulgars 
had  to  stop  and  walk  on  the  knuckles  of  their  hands,  as 
do  all  the  Munza-mulgars.     And  while  they  walked  heed- 

—53— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

fully  forward,  they  heard  the  trump-billed  river-birds 
calling  their  secrets  one  to  another: 

"I  see  Mulgars,  one,  two,  three. 

Creeping,  crawling,  one,  two,  three." 

Once  Thumb  trod  on  a  forest-pig  that  was  lying  half 
dead  with  cold  under  a  root  of  Samarak.  But  the  pig  was 
too  weak  to  squeal.  Nod  stooped  and  gave  him  three 
Ukka-nuts  and  a  pepper-pod.  "There,  pig,"  he  said, 
"tell  your  brothers  who  stole  my  bundle  that  Nod  Nizza- 
neela  gave  you  these  when  you  were  frozen."  And  the 
pig,  being  a  pig,  opened  its  slits  of  eyes  and  feebly  snapped 
at  his  fingers.  Nod  laughed  and  hastened  after  his  broth- 
ers. 

Over  the  half-moon  a  cloud  of  snow  was  drawing,  and 
soon  the  whispering  flakes  began  to  float  again  between 
the  branches.  The  wind  that  blew  steadily  down  the  river 
was  sharp  and  icy.  The  travellers  were  afraid,  if  they 
slept  in  the  trees  again,  they  would  be  frozen.  And  if  even 
one  big  toe  of  any  one  of  them  got  frost-bitten,  how  dis- 
tant would  the  Valley  of  Tishnar  seem  then!  They  heard, 
too,  now  and  then  the  faint  sounds  of  snapping  twig  and 
rustling  reed,  and  a  low  whimpering  growl  would  some- 
times set  the  giant  grasses  trembling.  Stiff  and  crusted 
with  frost,  and  in  constant  danger  of  falling  into  the  river, 
they  crawled  stubbornly  on. 

And  suddenly  straight  before  them  burned  out  a  light 
in  the  darkness  that  was  neither  of  moon,  star,  nor  frost- 
fire.  On  they  rustled,  very  warily  now,  because  they  knew 
somewhere  here  must  lurk  the  Oomgar-nugga  or  Gunga- 
mulgar  whose  drumming  they  had  heard.     One  by  one 

—54— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

they  presently  crept  out  of  the  sedge,  and  stood  up  a  few 
paces  from  a  kind  of  huddle  or  hut,  standing  crooked 
and  smoking  in  the  moonlight,  and  built  of  two  or  three 
rows  of  huge  stakes,  three  times  plaited,  very  fast  and 
close,  with  Samarak  and  withies  of  all  kinds.  It  stood 
about  three  Mulgars  high,  and  its  walls  were  more  than 
four  spans  thick. 

The  light  which  the  travellers  had  espied  burning  in 
the  distance  streamed  from  a  misshapen  window-hole  far 
above  Thimble's  head.  The  Mulgars  stood  staring  at  one 
another  in  the  shadow  of  the  black  forest,  and  now  and 
then  they  would  hear  a  rumble  or  clatter  from  behind  the 
thick  walls,  and  presently  a  sneeze  or  cough.  After  which 
would  suddenly  roll  out  the  loud  and  hollow  drumming 
of  the  great  creature  within. 

So  Thumb  bade  Nod  climb  softly  on  to  Thimble's 
shoulder,  and  very  slowly  lift  his  face  up  and  look  in. 
Up  went  Nod,  and  softly  drew  his  sheep-skinned  head  into 
the  light.  And  the  first  thing  he  noticed  was  a  wonder- 
ful steaming  smell  of  broth  cooking,  and  then,  as  he  pushed 
his  head  farther  through  the  window-hole,  he  looked  down 
into  the  hut.  And  he  saw,  sitting  there  on  a  huge  bench 
before  his  eating-board,  a  gigantic  Gunga-mulgar  in  a 
shift  or  shirt  of  fish-skin.  He  was  guzzling  down  broth 
out  of  a  gourd,  and  fishing  for  titbits  of  fish-fat  in  it  with 
a  wooden  prong  or  skewer.  He  knew  his  comfort,  this 
ugly  Gunga.  He  sat  with  crossed  legs  before  a  blazing 
fire.  It  shone  on  his  fangs  and  teeth  and  flaming  eyes. 
A  huge  axe,  made  out  of  a  stone,  hung  on  the  wall.  In 
one  corner  lay  a  heap  of  brushwood  and  fish-bones,  and 
in  a  hole  in  the  ground  a  pile  of  logs.     There  were  skins, 

—55— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

too,  on  the  walls  of  fishes  and  birds  and  little  furry  beasts, 
and  two  fat  hog-fish  shone  silvery  in  the  fire-light.  Be- 
sides these,  there  was  an  Oomgar-nugga's  bow  of  wood, 
thrice  strung  with  twisted  string.  But  what  pleased  Nod 
most  to  see,  as  he  peeped  stealthily  down  through  the 
thorny  wattle  window,  was  an  old  grey  Burbhrie  cat,  which 
sat  washing  her  face  in  front  of  the  fire. 

He  was  still  peeping  and  peering  into  the  hut,  when 
Thumb  pinched  his  leg  to  bid  him  come  down.  So  he 
slid  cautiously  down  Thimble's  back  into  the  cold  moon- 
light again,  and  told  his  brothers  all  he  had  seen. 

"Yes,  Mulla-mulgars,"  he  said,  "and  beside  his  bow 
and  his  sharp-nosed  darts,  he  has  three  big  knubbly  cudgels 
in  the  corner  higher  than  is  Nod.  He  sits  there,  mutter- 
ing and  chuffing  and  sticking  a  long  wood  spit  in  his 
soup,  and  then  he  coughs  and  says  'Ug!'  and  beats  his  black 
fists  on  his  chest  till  the  flames  shake." 

Thumb's  short  thick  scalp  twitched  to  and  fro  as  he 
sat  on  his  heels,  staring  into  the  moonlight.  "Is  he  very 
big  and  strong?  Is  he  as  broad  and  thick  as  Thumb?"  he 
said. 

"He's  sitting  in  a  spangly  shirt,"  said  Nod,  "and  his 
arms  are  like  Boobab-roots — like  Boobab-roots — and  his 
eyes,  Mulla-mulgars,  they  burn  in  bony  houses,  and  his 
face  is  black  as  charcoal." 

Thumb  lifted  his  face  uneasily  and  yawned.  "We  will 
push  on;  we  will  not  meddle  with  the  Gunga,  my  brothers," 
he  said.  "Better  sleep  cold  than  never  wake."  He 
laughed,  and  patted  Nod  on  the  head  with  his  stump- 
thumbed  hand,  just  as  Seelem  used  to  do  when  Nod  was 
a  baby.     So  they  crept  softly  past  the  huddle  on  their 

—56— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

fours,  turning  their  heads  this  way,  that  way,  snuffing 
softly  along  on  an  icy  path  that  led  through  the  sword- 
grass  to  the  river's  edge.  And  there,  tossing  lightly  on 
the  water,  they  found  a  boat,  or  Bobberie,  of  Bemba- 
wood  and  skin  pegged  down  with  wooden  pegs.  It  was 
moored  fast  with  a  rope  of  Samarak,  and  two  broad  pad- 
dles lay  inside  it.  All  this  the  travellers  saw  faintly  in 
the  moonlit  dusk.  Far  away  they  heard  the  barking  and 
weeping  of  Coccadrilloes  as  they  stooped  together  over 
the  Bobberie,  rising  and  falling  on  the  gloomy  water. 

"Let  us  not  trouble  the  Gunga  at  his  supper,"  said 
Thimble,  "but  get  in  first  and  ask  leave  after." 

And  Thumb  began  softly  hauling  on  the  rope.  But 
the  smooth  round  stone  on  which  they  stood  was  coated 
green  with  ice,  and  as  he  pulled  his  foot  slipped.  He  flung 
out  his  arms:  down  went  Thumb;  down  went  Nod.  No 
sooner  had  their  uproar  died  away  than  an  angry  and 
ogreish  voice  broke  out  from  the  hut.  Thumb,  with 
Thimble  at  his  heels,  had  only  just  time  enough  to  scramble 
off  and  hide  himself  in  the  giant  sedge  before  down  swung 
the  gibbering  Gunga  on  the  crutches  of  his  hairy  arms  to 
see  what  was  amiss,  and  who  was  meddling  with  his 
boat. 

There  he  found  Nod,  floating  like  a  sheeny  bubble  in 
his  puffed-out  sheep's- jacket  on  the  icy  water.  He 
stooped  down  and  clawed  him  up  with  one  enormous  paw, 
and  carried  him  off  into  his  hut.  Then,  putting  up  the 
wooden  door,  he  sat  him  down  with  a  shout  before  his  blaz- 
ing fire. 

"Ohe,  ohe,  ohe!"  he  bellowed.  "Zutha  mu  beluthli 
zakketi  zanga  xut!" 

—57— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Nod,  cold  and  trembling,  lifted  his  little  grey  face  out 
of  his  streaming  sheep's-eoat  and  shook  his  head. 

Then  the  Gunga,  seeing  this  crackle-shell  did  not  un- 
derstand his  language,  bawled  at  him  in  Munza-mulgar : 
"Thief,  thief!  What  were  you  after,  fishing  from  great 
Gunga's  boat?"  Nod  shook  his  head  again,  for  he  ex- 
pected every  moment  that  great  hand  to  clutch  him  up 
and  fling  him  into  the  fire. 

"Thief,  thief,  and  son  of  a  thief!"  squalled  the  Gunga 
again,  opening  his  great  mouth. 

But  at  that  Nod's  wits  grew  suddenly  clear  and  still. 
"Not  so  fast — not  so  fast.  Master  Gunga,"  he  said. 
"  JNIuUa-mulgars  are  neither  thieves  nor  sons  of  thieves. 
Squeal  that  at  the  Munza-mulgars,  not  at  Ummanodda!" 

The  old  Gunga  stared  with  jutting  teeth.  "Mulla- 
mulgars,"  he  grunted  mockingly.  "Off  with  that  sheep- 
skin, Prince  of  Fleas!     I'll  skin  ye  'fore  I  cook  ye!" 

Nod  stared  bravely  into  the  glinting  sooty  face. 
"Gunga  duseepi  sooklar,  by  Noomanossi's  harp!" 

The  old  Gunga  stooped  closer  on  his  fleshless  legs  and 
blinked.  "What  knows  a  fly-catching  Skeeto  of  Noo- 
manossi's harp?"  he  said. 

"What  knows  a  fish-bait  Gunga  of  the  Princes  of 
Tishnar?"  Nod  answered,  and  calmly  sat  down  beside  the 
old  Burbhrie  cat  on  a  log  in  front  of  the  fire.  The  savage 
old  Puss  stretched  out  her  claws,  spread  back  her  tufted 
ash-coloured  ears,  and  with  grey-green  eyes  stared  fiercely 
into  his  face.  But  Nod  clutched  tight  his  Wonderstone, 
and  paid  no  heed ;  and  soon  she  lazily  turned  again  to  the 
flames,  and  began  to  purr  like  a  nestful  of  Nikkanakkas. 

The  Gunga  stared,  too,  snapped  his  great  jaws,  coughed, 

—58— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

then  beat  with  his  warty  fist  on  his  great  breast.  "Ohe, 
ohe!"  he  said.  "I  meant  no  evil  to  the  Mulla-mulgar. 
Princes  of  Tishnar  journey  not  often  past  old  Gunga's 
house.  I  hutch  alone,  far  from  my  own  country,  Royal 
Stranger,  with  only  my  black-man's  Bobberie  for  friend." 

Nod,  when  he  heard  this,  almost  laughed  out.  "Not 
now,  'Prince  of  Bonfires,'  nor  'Noddle  of  Pork,'  "  he 
thought,  "but  'Royal  Stranger,'  and  'Prince  of  Tishnar.'  " 

"Why,  then,"  he  said  aloud  to  the  Gunga,  "tongues 
chatter  best  when  they  have  something  good  to  say.  I'll 
take  a  platter  of  soup  with  you.  Friend  of  Fishes.  And 
better  still,  I'll  dry  my  magic  coat."  He  slipped  out  of 
his  dripping  jacket,  and  spread  it  out  in  front  of  the  fire, 
and  there  he  sat,  slim  and  silky,  in  his  little  cotton-leaf 
breeches,  scratching  Puss's  head  and  pretending  himself  at 
home.  But  the  old  Fish-catcher's  bloodshot  eyes  were 
watching — watching  all  the  time.  He  was  thinking  what 
snug  and  beautiful  breeches  that  sheep's-coat  would  make 
him  this  icy  weather.  But  he  thought,  too,  it  would  be 
best  to  speak  civilly  and  smoothly  to  his  visitor — at  least, 
for  the  present.  Not  even  a  Gunga-mulgar  cares  to  quar- 
rel with  peaceful  Tishnar. 

"Make  yourself  easy,  Traveller,"  he  said,  nodding  his 
peaked  head  with  a  hideous  smile.  "The  moon  was  at 
hide-and-seek  when  I  found  you  in  the  water;  I  could  not 
see  your  royal  countenance.  But  Simmul,  she  knows 
best."  The  old  Burbhrie  cat  turned  to  her  master  at  sound 
of  her  name,  put  up  her  tufted  paw  towards  Nod,  and 
mewed. 

"Ohe,  ohe!"  said  the  Gunga  mournfully.  "She's  mew- 
ing 'Magic'     And  what  knows  a  feeble  old  Fish-catcher 

--59— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

of  INIagic?"  He  poured  out  some  soup  into  a  bowl,  put 
in  a  skewer,  and  handed  it  to  Nod. 

"I  will  hang  the  Royal  Stranger's  beautiful  sheep's- 
coat  on  a  hook,"  he  said  slyly.  "There  it  will  dry  much 
quicker." 

But  Nod  guessed  easily  what  he  was  after.  Once  hung 
up  there,  how  was  he  ever  going  to  reach  his  jacket  down 
again?     "No,  no,"  says  he;  "it's  nearly  dry  already." 

He  took  the  gourd  of  soup  between  his  knees.  It  tasted 
strong  of  fish,  and  was  green  with  a  satiny  river-weed; 
but  it  was  hot  and  sweetish,  and  he  supped  it  up  greedily. 
And  just  as  he  was  tilting  the  bowl  for  the  last  mouthful 
he  looked  up  and  saw  Thumb's  round,  astonished  face 
staring  in  at  the  little  dark  window.  He  put  down  his 
gourd  and  burst  out  laughing. 

"What  makes  the  stranger  laugh?"  said  the  old  Gunga- 
mulgar.     "It's  very  good  broth." 

"I  was  laughing,"  said  Nod,  "laughing  at  that  last  fish 
I  caught." 

"Was  it  a  big  fish — a  fat,  heavy  fish?"  said  the  Gunga. 

Nod  stared,  with  one  eye  shut  and  his  head  a  little 
awry,  at  the  two  hog-fish  dangling  on  the  wall.  "Five 
times  as  big  as  them,"  he  said. 

"Five?"  said  the  Gunga. 

"Five  or  six,"  said  Nod. 

"Or  six!"  said  the  Gunga. 

"Truly,"  said  Nod  softly,  "he  fishes  not  for  minnows 
who  knows  the  magic  fish-song  of  the  Water-middens." 

The  old  Gunga  turned  his  great  black  skull,  and  be- 
neath the  beetling  porches  of  his  eyes  glowered  greedily  on 
Nod.     "And  what,"  he  said  cunningly — "what  song  is 

—60— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

that,  O  Royal  Stranger?"  And  he  stooped  down  sud- 
denly and  pushed  Nod's  jacket  under  the  bench. 

"Why  do  you  push  my  sheep's-coat  under  the  bench?" 
said  Nod  angrily. 

"I  smelt — I  smelt,"  said  Gunga,  throwing  back  his  head, 
"scorching.  But  softly,  Mulla-mulgar.  What  is  this 
Water-middens'  song  that  catches  fishes  five — six  times  as 
big  as  mine?  And  if  you  know  all  this  wisdom,  and  are 
truly  a  Prince  of  Tishnar,  why  do  you  sit  here,  this  freezing 
night,  supping  up  a  poor  old  Fish-catcher's  broth?" 


Wt'"'"'.,^ 


—61— 


CHAPTER  V 


By  this  time,  it  was  plain,  Thimble  and  Thumb  had 
found  something  to  raise  them  to  the  window-hole,  for 
Nod,  as  he  glanced  up,  saw  half  of  both  their  astonished 
faces  (one  eye  of  each)  peering  in  at  the  window.  He 
waved  his  lean  little  arms,  and  their  faces  vanished. 

"Why  do  you  wave  your  long  thumbs  in  the  air?"  said 
the  old  Gunga  uneasily. 

"I  wave  to  Tishnar,"  said  Nod,  "who  watches  over  her 
wandering  Princes,  and  will  preserve  them  from  thieves 
and  cunning  ones.  And  as  for  your  filthy  green-weed 
soup,  how  should  a  Mulla-mulgar  soil  his  thumbs  with 
gutting  fish?  And  as  for  the  Water-midden's  song,  that 
I  cannot  teach  you,  nor  would  I  teach  it  you  if  I  could, 
Master  Fish-catcher.     But  I  can  catch  fish  with  it." 

The  old  Gunga  squatted  close  on  his  stool,  and  grinned 
as  graciously  as  he  could.  "I  am  poor  and  growing  old," 
he  said,  "and  I  cannot  catch  fish  as  once  I  could.  How  is 
that  done,  O  Royal  Traveller?" 

—62— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Nod  stood  up  and  put  his  finger  on  his  hps.  "Secrets, 
Puss!"  says  he,  and  stepped  softly  over  and  peeped  out 
of  the  door.  He  came  back.  "Listen,"  he  said.  "I  go 
down  to  the  water — at  daybreak;  oh  yes,  just  at  day- 
break. Then  I  row  out  a  little  way  in  my  little  Bobberie, 
quite,  quite  alone — no  one  must  be  near  to  spy  or  listen; 
then  I  cast  my  nets  into  the  water  and  sing  and  sing." 

"What  nets?"  said  the  Gunga. 

Nod  dodged  a  crisscross  with  his  finger  in  the  air. 

"Sootli,  sootli,"  mewed  Puss,  with  her  eyes  half  shut. 

The  old  Gunga  wriggled  his  head  with  his  great  lip 
sagging.     "What  happens  then?"  said  he. 

"Then,"  said  Nod,  "from  far  and  near  my  Magic  draws 
the  fishes,  head,  fin,  and  tail,  hundreds  and  hundreds,  all 
to  hear  my  Water-middens'  lovely  song." 

"And  what  then?"  said  Gunga. 

"Then,"  said  Nod,  peeping  with  his  eye,  "I  look  and 
I  look  till  I  see  the  biggest  fish  of  all — seven,  eight,  nine 
times  as  big  as  that  up  there,  and  I  draw  him  out  gently, 
gently,  just  as  I  choose  him,  into  my  Bobberie." 

"And  wouldn't  any  fish  come  to  the  little  Prince  unless 
he  fished  alone?"  said  the  greedy  Gunga. 

"None,"  said  Nod.  "But  there,  why  should  we  be  gos- 
siping of  fishing?     My  boat  is  far  away." 

"But,"  said  the  Gunga  cunningly,  "I  have  a  boat." 

"Ohe,  maybe,"  said  Nod  easily.  "One  cannot  drown 
on  dry  land.  But  I  did  speak  of  a  Bobberie  of  skin  and 
Bemba-wood,  made  by  the  stamping  Oomgar-nuggas  next 
the  sea." 

"Ay,"  said  the  Gunga  triumphantly,  "but  that's  just 
what  my  Bobberie  is  made  of,  and  I  broke  the  backbone 

—63— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

of  the  Oomgar-nugga  chief  that  made  it  with  one  cuff  of 
my  cudgel-hand." 

Nod  yawned.  "Tishnar's  Prince  is  tired,"  he  said,  "and 
cannot  talk  of  fishes  any  more.  A  bowlful  more  broth, 
Master  Fish-catcher,  and  then  I'll  just  put  on  my  jacket 
and  go  to  sleep."  And  he  laughed,  oh,  so  softly  to  him- 
self to  see  that  sooty,  gluttonous,  velvety  face,  and  the  red, 
gleaming  eyes,  and  the  thick,  twitching  thumbs. 

"Ootz  nuggthli!"  coughed  the  Gunga  sourly.  He 
ladled  out  the  broth,  bobbing  with  broken  pods,  with  a 
great  nutshell,  muttering  angrily  to  himself  as  he  stooped 
over  the  pot.  And  there,  as  soon  as  he  had  turned  his 
back,  came  those  two  dark  wondering  faces  at  the  win- 
dow, grinning  to  see  little  Nod  so  snug  and  comfortable 
before  the  fire. 

And  when  the  Gunga  had  poured  out  the  broth,  he 
brought  his  stool  nearer  to  Nod,  and,  leaning  his  great 
hands  on  the  floor,  he  said:  "See  here,  Prince  of  Tishnar, 
if  I  lend  you  my  skin  Bobberie  to-morrow  morning,  will 
you  catch  me  some  fish  with  your  magic  song?" 

Nod  frowned  and  stared  into  the  fire.  "The  crafty 
Gunga  would  be  peeping  between  the  trees,"  he  said, 
"and  then " 

"What  then?"  said  he. 

"Then  Tishnar 's  Meermuts  would  come  with  their  silver 
thongs  and  drive  you  squalling  into  the  water.  And 
the  Middens  would  pick  your  eyes  out.  Master  Fish- 
catcher." 

"I  promise,  I  promise,"  said  the  old  Gunga,  and  his 
enormous  body  trembled. 

"Where  is  this  talked-of  Bobberie?"  said  Nod  solemnly. 

—64— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 
"Was  it  that  old  log  Nod  saw  when  whispering  with  the 
Water-middens  ?" 

"Follow,  follow,"  said  the  other.  "I'll  show  the  Prince 
this  log."  But  first  Nod  stooped  under  the  bench,  and 
pulled  out  his  sheep's-coat  and  put  it  on.  Then  he  fol- 
lowed the  old  Fish-catcher  down  his  frosty  path  between 
its  banks  of  snow,  clear  now  in  the  silver  shining  of  the 
moon. 

The  Fish-catcher  showed  him  everything — how  to  un- 
tie the  knotted  rope  of  Samarak,  how  to  use  the  paddles, 
where  the  mooring-stone  for  deep  water  was.  He  held 
it  up  in  his  hand,  a  great  round  stone  as  big  as  a  millstone. 
Nod  listened  and  listened,  half  hiding  his  face  in  his  jacket 
lest  the  Gunga-mulgar  should  see  him  laughing.  Last  of 
all,  the  Fish-catcher,  lifting  him  lightly  in  his  hand,  pointed 
across  the  turbid  water,  and  bade  him  have  care  not  to 
drift  out  far  in  his  fishing,  for  the  stream  ran  very  swiftly, 
the  ice-floes  or  hummocks  were  sharp,  and  under  the  Shin- 
ing-one, he  said,  snorting  River-horses  and  the  weeping 
Mumbo  lurk. 

"Never  fear.  Master  Fish-catcher,"  said  Nod.  "Tish- 
nar  will  watch  over  me.  How  many  big  fish,  now,  can 
the  old  Glutton  eat  in  comfort?" 

The  Gunga  lifted  his  black  bony  face,  and  glinted  on 
the  moon.  "Five  would  be  good,"  he  said.  "Ten  would 
be  better.  Ohe,  do  not  count,  Royal  Traveller.  It  makes 
the  head  ache  after  ten."  And  he  thought  within  him- 
self what  a  fine  thing  it  was  to  have  kept  this  Magic-mul- 
gar,  this  Prince  of  Tishnar,  for  his  friend,  when  he  might 
in  his  rage  have  flung  him  clean  across  Obea-munza  into 
that  great  Boobab-tree  grey  in  the  moon.     "He  shall 

—65— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

teach  me  the  ^Middens'  song,  and  then  I'll  fish  for  my- 
self," he  thought,  all  his  thick  skin  stirring  on  his  bones 
with  greed. 

So  he  cozened  and  cringed  and  flattered,  and  used  Nod 
as  if  he  were  his  mother's  son.  He  made  him  lie  on  his 
own  bed;  he  put  on  him  a  great  skin  ear-cap;  he  filled  a 
bowl  with  the  hot  fish-water  to  bathe  his  feet;  and  he 
fetched  out  from  a  lidded  hole  in  the  floor  a  necklet  of 
scalloped  Bamba-shells,  and  hung  it  round  his  slender 
neck. 

But  Nod,  as  soon  as  he  lay  down,  began  thinking  of 
those  poor  Mulla-mulgars,  his  brothers,  hungry  and  shiv- 
ering in  the  tree-tops.  And  he  pondered  how  he  could 
help  them.  Presently  he  began  to  chafe  and  toss  in  his 
bed,  to  sigh  and  groan. 

Up  started  the  old  Gunga  from  his  corner  beside  the 
fire.  "What  ails  the  Prince?  Why  does  he  groan?  Are 
you  in  pain,  Mulla-mulgar?" 

"In  pain!"  cried  Nod,  as  if  in  a  great  rage,  "How  shall 
a  Prince  sleep  with  twice  ten  thousand  Gunga  fleas  in  his 
blanket?" 

He  got  up,  dragging  after  him  the  thick  Munzaram's 
fleece  off  his  bed,  and,  opening  the  door,  flung  it  out  into 
the  snow.  "Try  that,  my  hungry  hopping  ones,"  he  said, 
and  pushed  up  the  door  again.  "Now  I  must  have  an- 
other one,"  he  said. 

The  old  Fish-catcher  excused  himself  for  the  fleas.  "It 
is  cold  to  comb  in  the  doorway,"  he  said,  rubbing  his  flat 
nose.  And  he  took  another  woolly  skin  out  of  his  earth- 
cupboard  and  laid  it  over  Nod. 

"That's  one  for  Thumb,"  Nod  said  to  himself,  laugh- 

—66— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

ing.  And  presently  once  more  he  began  fretting  and 
tossing.  "Oh,  oh,  oh!"  he  cried  out,  "What!  More  of  ye! 
more  of  ye!"  and  with  that  away  he  went  again,  and  flung 
the  second  ram's  fleece  after  the  first. 

"Master  Traveller,  Master  Traveller!"  yelped  the  old 
Fish-catcher,  starting  up,  "if  you  throw  all  my  blankets 
out,  those  thieves  the  smudge-faces  will  steal  them." 

"Better  no  blankets  than  a  million  fleas,"  said  Nod; 
"and  yours.  Master  Fish-catcher,  are  as  greedy  as  Ephe- 
lanto  tics.  And  now  I  think  I  will  sleep  by  the  fire,  then 
the  first  peep  of  day  will  shine  in  my  eyes  from  that  little 
window-hole  up  there,  and  wake  me  to  my  fishing." 

"Udzmutchakiss"  ("So  be  it"),  growled  the  Gunga. 
But  he  was  very  angry  underneath.  "Wait  ye,  wait  ye, 
wait  ye,  my  pretty  Squirrel-tail,"  he  kept  muttering  to 
himself  as  he  sat  with  crossed  arms.  "For  every  blanket 
a  Bobberie  or  great  fish." 

But  Nod  had  never  felt  so  merry  in  his  life.  To  think 
of  his  brothers  wrapped  warm  in  the  Gunga-mulgar's 
blankets! — He  laughed  aloud. 

"What  ails  the  Traveller?  What  is  he  mocking  at 
now?"  said  the  Fish-catcher,  glowering  out  of  his  corner. 

"Why,"  said  Nod,  "I  laughed  to  hear  the  mice  in  this 
box  hanging  over  my  head." 

"Mice?"  said  the  Gunga. 

"Why,  yes;  a  score  or  more,"  said  Nod.  "And  one  old 
husky  INIuttakin  keeps  saying,  'Nibble  all,  nibble  all;  leave 
not  one  whole,  my  little  pretty  ones — not  the  crumb  of  a 
crumb  for  the  ugly  old  glutton.'  I  think,  O  generous 
Gunga,  she  means  the  bread  of  Sudd,  I  smell." 

At  that  the  Gunga  flamed  up  in  a  fury.     He  rushed 

—67— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

to  his  food-box,  shouting,  "Will  ye,  oh,  will  ye,  ye  nib- 
bling thieves!"  And,  opening  the  door,  he  flung  it  after 
the  blankets — Sudd-loaves,  Nanoes,  river-weed,  and  all. 
And  he  stood  a  minute  in  the  doorway,  looking  out  on  the 
cold,  moonlit  snow. 

"Shut  to  the  door,  shut  to  the  door,  Master  Fish- 
catcher,"  called  Nod.     "I  hear  a  distant  harp-playing." 

The  Gunga  very  quickly  shut  the  door  at  that.  But  he 
came  to  the  fire  and  stood  leaning  on  his  hand,  looking 
into  it,  very  sullen  and  angry.  "Did  I  not  say  it,  Prince  of 
Tishnar?"  he  said.  "My  blankets  are  gone  already. 
Stolen!" 

"Sleep  softly,  my  friend,"  said  Nod,  "and  weary  me  not 
with  talking.  There's  better  rams  in  the  forest  than  ever 
were  flayed.  Your  blankets  will  creep  back,  never  fear. 
Even  to  a  Mullabruk  his  own  fleas!  But,  there!  I'll 
make  magic  even  this  very  moment,  and  to-morrow,  when 
you  go  down  to  the  river  to  fetch  up  the  fish,  there  shall 
your  blankets  be,  folded  and  civeted,  on  the  stones  by  the 
water." 

Then  he  rose  up  in  his  littleness,  and  began  to  dance 
slowly  from  one  foot  to  the  other,  waving  his  lean  arms 
over  the  fire,  and  singing,  in  the  secret  language  of  the 
Mulla-mulgars,  as  loud  as  ever  he  could : 

"Thumb,  Thimble,  Mulgar  meese. 

In   your  blankets   dream   at   ease, 
And  never  mind  the  frozen  fleas ; 

But  don't  forget  the  loaves  and  cheese !" 

"It  is  very  strange  magic,"  said  the  Fish-catcher." 

—68— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"Nay,"  said  Nod ;  "they  were  very  strange  fleas." 

"And  'Thumthimble' — what  does  that  mean?" 

"  'Thumb'  means  short  and  fat,  and  'Thimble'  means 
long  and  lean,  which  is  Mulgar-royal  for  both  kinds, 
Master  Fish-catcher." 

"Ohe!  the  Prince  knows  best,"  said  the  old  Gunga; 
"but  /  never  heard  such  magic.  And  I've  watched  the 
Dancing  Oomgars  leagues  and  leagues  from  here,  and 
drummed  them  home  to  their  Shes." 

Nod  yawned. 

As  soon  as  it  was  daybreak  the  old  Fish-catcher,  who 
had  scarcely  slept  a  wink  for  thinking  of  the  fishes  he 
was  to  have  for  his  breakfast,  came  and  woke  Nod  up. 
And  Nod  said:  "Now  I  go,  Master  Fish-catcher;  but 
be  sure  you  do  not  venture  one  toe's  breadth  beyond  the 
door  till  you  hear  me  bringing  back  the  fishes." 

"How  can  the  Prince  carry  them,  fishes  big  as  that?" 
said  the  Gunga. 

"One  at  a  time,  my  friend,  as  Ephelantoes  root  up 
trees,"  said  Nod,  staring  at  his  bristling  arms  and  tusks  of 
teeth.  "Ohe!"  he  went  on,  "when  you  hear  my  sweet- 
sounding  Water-middens'  song,  you  will  not  be  able  to 
keep  yourself  from  peeping.  You  must  be  bound  with 
Cullum,  Master  Fish-catcher.  Oh,  I  should  weep  rivers- 
ful  of  salt  tears  if  the  Water-middens  picked  your  gentle 
eyes  out." 

At  first  the  cunning  old  Gunga  would  not  consent  to  be 
bound  up.  But  Nod  refused  to  stir  until  he  did.  So 
at  last  he  fetched  a  thick  rope  of  Samarak  (which  is 
stronger  and  tougher  than  Cullum)  out  of  his  old  chest 

—69— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

or  coffer,  and  Nod  wound  it  round  and  round  him — legs, 
arms,  and  shoulders — and  tied  the  ends  to  the  great  fish- 
scaly  table. 

"Sit  easy,  my  friend,"  said  he;  "my  magic  begins  won- 
derfully to  burn  in  me."  And,  without  another  word,  he 
skipped  out  and  pulled  up  the  door  behind  him. 

Words  could  not  tell  how  rejoiced  were  his  brothers 
to  see  him  from  their  tree-tops  come  frisking  across  the 
snow.  Away  went  the  travellers  in  the  first  light,  hasten- 
ing like  thieves  in  their  jackets,  Nod  in  his  sheep's-coat 
leading  the  way.  They  left  the  blankets  as  Nod  had 
promised  the  Gunga.  Then,  one,  two,  three,  they  pushed 
the  Bobberie  into  deep  water.  In  jumped  Nod,  in 
jumped  Thimble,  in  jumped  Thumb.  Out  splashed  the 
heavy  paddles,  and  soon  the  Bobberie  was  floating  like 
a  cork  among  the  ice-humps  in  the  red  glare  of  dawn. 
They  shoved  off.  Thumb  at  one  paddle.  Thimble  and  Nod 
at  the  other.  The  farther  they  floated,  the  swifter  swept 
the  water.  And  soon,  however  hard  they  pushed  at  the 
heavy  paddles,  the  Bobberie  began  twirling  round  and 
round,  zig-zagging  faster  and  faster  down  with  the  stream. 

But  scarcely  were  they  more  than  fifteen  fathoms  from 
the  bank  when  a  shrill  and  piercing  "Ilia  olla!  ilia  olla!" 
broke  out  behind  them.  No  need  to  look  back.  There 
on  the  bank  in  his  glistening  fish-skins,  gnashing  his  teeth 
and  beating  with  his  crusted  hands  on  the  drum  of  his 
great  chest,  stood  the  terrible  Gunga-mulgar,  his  Samarak- 
ropes  all  burst  asunder.  He  stooped  and  tore  up  huge 
stones  and  lumps  of  ice  as  big  as  a  sheep,  and  flung  them 
high  into  the  air  after  the  tossing  Bobberie.  Splash, 
splash,  splash,  they  fell,  around  the  three  poor  sweating 

—70— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

travellers,  drenching  them  with  water  and  melting  snow. 
The  faster  they  paddled  the  faster  swirled  the  water,  and 
the  thicker  came  tmnbling  the  Gunga's  huge  boulders  of 
stone  and  ice.  Let  but  one  fall  plump  upon  their  Bob- 
berie,  down  they  would  go  to  be  Mumbo-meat  for  good 
and  all.  But  ever  farther  the  surging  water  was  sweep- 
ing them  on.  Suddenly  the  hailstones  ceased,  and  they 
spied  their  dreadful  enemy  swinging  furiously  back  on  his 
thick  five-foot  arms. 

"Gone,  gone!"  cried  Thimble  in  triumph,  leaning  breath- 
less on  his  paddle. 

"Crow  when  your  egg's  hatched,  brother  Thimble,"  mut- 
tered Thumb.     "He's  gone  to  fetch  his  bow." 

True  it  was.  Down  swung  the  gibbering  Gunga,  his 
Oomgar-nugga's  bow  across  his  shoulder.  Crouching  by 
the  water-side,  he  stretched  its  string  with  all  his  strength. 
And  a  thin,  keen  dart  sung  shrill  as  a  parakeet  over  their 
heads.  Again,  again,  and  then  it  seemed  to  Nod  a  red- 
hot  skewer  had  suddenly  spitted  him  through  the  shoulder, 
and  he  knew  the  Fish-catcher  had  aimed  true.  He 
plucked  the  arrow  out  and  waved  it  over  his  head,  scrunch- 
ing his  teeth  together,  and  saying  nothing  save  "Paddle, 
Thimble!     Paddle,  O  Thumb!" 

Mightily  they  leaned  on  their  broad,  unwieldy  pad- 
dles. But  now,  not  looking  where  the  water  was  sweej)- 
ing  them,  of  a  sudden  the  Bobberie  butted  full  tilt  into 
a  great  hummock  of  ice,  and  water  began  welling  up 
through  a  hole  in  the  bottom.  Nod  knelt  down,  and,  while 
his  brothers  paddled,  he  flung  out  the  water  as  fast  as  he 
could  with  his  big  fish-skin  cap.  But  fast  though  he  baled, 
the  water  rilled  in  faster,  and  just  as  they  floated  under  a 

—71— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

long,  snow-laden  branch  of  an  OUaconda-tree,  the  Bob- 
berie  began  to  sink. 

Then  Thimble  cried  in  a  loud  voice,  "Guzza-guzza- 
nahoo !"  and,  with  a  great  leap,  sprang  out  of  the  boat  and 
caught  the  drooping  branch.  Thumb  clutched  his  legs 
and  Nod  Thumb's;  and  there  they  were,  all  three  swinging 
over  the  water,  while  the  branch  creaked  and  trembled 
over  their  heads. 

Down  sank  the  staved-in  Bobberie,  and  up — one,  two, 
three,  four,  five — floated  huge,  sluggish  Mumboes  or  Coc- 
cadrilloes,  with  dull,  grass-green  eyes  fixed  gluttonously 
on  the  dangling  Mulgars.  And  a  thick  muskiness  filled 
the  air  around  them. 

Inch  by  inch  Thimble  edged  along  the  bough,  until,  be- 
cause of  the  jutting  twigs  and  shoots,  he  could  edge  no 
farther.  Then,  slowly  and  steadily  at  first,  but  gradually 
faster,  the  three  travellers  began  to  swing,  sweeping  to 
and  fro  through  the  air,  above  the  enraged  and  snapping 
Coccadrilloes.  The  wind  rushed  past  Nod's  ears;  his 
jacket  flapped  about  him.  "Go!"  squealed  Thumb;  and 
away  whisked  Nod,  like  a  flying  squirrel  across  the  water, 
and  landed  high  and  dry  on  the  bank  under  the  wide- 
spreading  Ollaconda-tree.  Thumb  followed.  Thimble, 
with  only  his  own  weight  to  lift,  quickly  scrambled  up  into 
the  boughs  above  him.  And  soon  all  three  Mulla-mulgars 
were  sitting  in  safety,  munching  what  remained  of  the 
Gunga's  Sudd-bread,  and  between  their  mouthfuls  shout- 
ing mockery  at  the  musky  Coccadrilloes. 

While  they  were  thus  eating  happily  together  Thumb 
suddenly  threw  up  his  hands  and  called:  "Blood,  blood, 
O  Ummanodda — blood,  red  blood!"     And  then  it  seemed 

—72— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

to  Nod,  trees,  sky,  and  river  swam  mazily  before  his  eyes. 
Darkness  swept  up.  He  rolled  over  against  a  jutting 
root  of  the  OUaconda,  and  knew  no  more. 


^X,x_...^ 


-73— 


CHAPTER  VI 


When  Nod  opened  his  eyes  again,  he  found  himself  blink- 
ing right  into  the  middle  of  a  blazing  fire,  over  which  hung 
sputtering  a  huddled  carcass  on  a  long  black  spit.  Nod's 
head  ached;  his  shoulder  burned  and  throbbed.  He 
touched  it  gently,  and  found  that  it  was  swathed  and 
bound  up  with  leaves  that  smelt  sleepily  sweet  and  cool. 
He  looked  around  him  as  best  he  could,  but  at  first  could 
see  nothing,  because  of  the  brightness  of  the  flames. 
Gradually  he  perceived  small  grey  creatures,  with  big 
heads  and  white  hands,  that  reached  almost  to  the  ground, 
hastening  to  and  fro.  His  smooth  brown  poll  stood 
up  stiff  with  terror  at  sight  of  them,  for  he  knew  he 
must  be  lying  in  the  earth-mounds  of  the  flesh-eating 
Minimuls. 

Memories  one  by  one  returned  to  him — the  Bobberie,  the 
river,  the  yapping  Coccadrilloes,  the  burning  dart.  One 
thing  he  could  not  recall — how  he  came  to  be  lying  alone 
and  helpless  here  in  the  root-houses  of  these  cunning  ene- 

—74— 


THE   WONDERSTONK. 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

mies  of  all  Mulgars,  great  and  small.  He  remembered 
the  stories  Mutta-matutta  used  to  tell  him  of  their  snares 
and  poisons  and  enticements;  of  their  earth-galleries  and 
their  horrible  flesh-feasts  at  the  full  moon.  His  one  com- 
fort was  that  he  still  lay  in  his  sheep's  jacket,  and  felt  his 
httle  Wonderstone  pressed  close  against  his  side. 

When  one  of  the  Minimuls  that  stood  basting  the  spit 
saw  that  Nod  was  awake  he  summoned  others  who  were 
standing  near,  and  many  stooped  softly  over,  staring  at 
him,  and  whispering  together.  Nod  put  his  finger  to  his 
tongue,  and  said,  "Walla!"  One  of  them  instantly 
shuffled  away  and  brought  him  a  little  gourd  of  a  sweet- 
ish juice  like  Keeri,  which  greatly  refreshed  him. 

Then  he  called  out,  "Mulgars,  MuUa-mulgars?"  This, 
too,  they  seemed  at  once  to  understand.  For,  indeed,  See- 
lem  had  told  Nod  that  these  Minimuls  are  nothing  but  a 
kind  of  Munza-mulgar,  though  their  faces  more  closely 
resemble  the  twilight  or  moonshine  Mulgars,  and  for  craft 
and  greed  the  dwarf  Oomgar-nuggas,  that  long  ago  had 
trooped  away  beyond  Arakkaboa.  Nod  heard  presently 
many  faint  voices,  and  then  thick  guttural  cries  of  pain 
and  anger.  And  by  turning  a  little  his  head  he  could  see 
a  host  of  these  mouse-faced  mannikins  tugging  at  a  rope. 
At  the  end  of  this  rope,  all  bound  up  with  Cullum,  with 
sticky  leaves  plastered  over  their  eyes,  and  hung  with 
dangling  festoons  of  greenery  and  flowers,  like  jacks-in- 
the-green.  Thumb  and  Thimble  hobbled  slowly  in  from 
under  an  earthen  arch.  Nod  was  weak  wRh  pain.  He 
cried  out  hollowly  to  see  his  brothers  blind  and  help- 
less. 

Thumb  heard  the  sound,  and  answered  him  boldly  in 

—75— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

^lulgar-royal.     "Is  that  the  voice  of  my  brother,  the 
Mulla-mulgar,  Nizza-neela  Ummanodda?" 

"O  Thumb!"  Nod  groaned,  "why  am  I  here  in  com- 
fort, while  you  and  Thimble  are  dragged  in,  bound  with 
Cullum,  and  hung  all  over  with  dreadful  leaves  and 
flowers?" 

"Have  no  fear.  Prince  of  Bonfires,"  said  Thumb  with 
a  laugh.  "The  Minimuls  caught  us  smelling  at  their 
Gelica-nuts,  and  sleeping  in  the  warmth  of  their  earth- 
mounds.  We  were  too  frozen  and  hungry  to  carry  you 
any  farther.  They  are  fattening  us  for  their  Moon-feast. 
But  it  will  be  little  more  than  a  picking  of  bones,  Um- 
manodda. And  even  if  they  do  spit  up  over  their  fire, 
we  will  taste  as  sweet  as  Mulla-mulgars  can."  And  he 
burst  out  into  such  a  squeal  of  angry  laughter  the  Mini- 
muls began  chattering  again  and  waving  their  hands. 

"Talk  not  of  meat  and  bones  to  me,  Thumb.  If  you 
die,  I  die  too.  Tell  me,  only  so  that  they  do  not  under- 
stand, what  is  Nod  to  do." 

Then  Thimble,  who  was  standing  in  the  shadow,  hob- 
bled a  little  nearer  into  the  light  of  the  fire,  and  lifting 
up  his  leaf -smeared  face  as  if  to  see,  said:  "Have  no 
fear  for  yourself,  Nod.  They  have  caught  us,  but  not 
for  long.  But  you  they  dare  not  frizzle  a  hair  of,  little 
brother,  because  of  Tishnar's  Wonderstone  sewn  up  in 
your  sheep 's-coat.  They  have  smelt  out  its  magic. 
Keep  the  stone  safe,  then,  Ummanodda,  and,  when  you 
are  alone,  rub  it  Samaweeza  as  Mutta  told  you  before  she 
died.  Tishnar,  perhaps,  will  answer.  See  only  that  none 
of  these  miching  mouse-faces  are  near.  Had  we  but  been 
awake  when  they  found  us!  .  .  ." 

—76— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

But  the  Minimuls  began  to  grow  restless  at  all  this  pa- 
laver, for,  though  the  Munza-mulgar  tongue  is  known  to 
them,  they  cannot  understand,  except  a  word  here  and 
there,  the  secret  language  of  Mulgar-royal.  So  they  laid 
hold  of  the  Cullum-ropes  again,  and  lugged  Thumb  and 
Thimble  back  under  the  sandy  arch  through  which  they 
had  come.  Thumb  had  only  time  enough  to  cry  in  a 
loud  voice,  "Courage,  Nizza-neela,"  before  he  was  dragged 
again  out  of  sight  and  hearing. 

And  Nod  remembered  that  when  the  Gunga-mulgar 
had  led  him  down  out  of  his  huddle  to  show  him  the 
Bobberie,  the  moon  was  shining  then  at  dwindhng  halves. 
So  he  knew  that,  unless  many  days  had  passed  since  then, 
it  would  be  some  while  yet  before  these  Minimuls  made 
their  cannibal  Moon-feast.  He  lay  still,  with  eyes  half 
shut,  thinking  as  best  he  could,  with  an  aching  head  and 
throbbing  shoulder. 

The  firelight  glanced  on  the  earthy  roof  far  above  him. 
Here  and  there  the  contorted  root  of  some  enormous  for- 
est-tree jutted  out  into  the  air.  There  was  a  continued 
faint  rustle  around  him,  as  of  bees  in  a  hive  or  ants  in  a 
pine-wood.  This  was  the  shuffling  of  the  Minimuls' 
shoes,  which  are  flat,  like  sandals,  and  made  of  silver  grass 
plaited  together,  that  rustles  on  the  sandy  floor  of  their 
chambers  and  galleries.  This  plaited  grass  they  tie,  too, 
round  their  middles  for  a  belt  or  pouch,  beneath  which, 
as  they  walk,  their  long  lean  tails  descend.  Their  fur 
shines  faintly  shot  in  moon  or  firelight,  and  is  either  pebble- 
grey  or  sand-coloured.  It  never  bristles  into  hair  except 
about  their  polls  and  chops,  where  it  stands  in  a  smooth, 
even  wall,  about  one  and  a  half  to  two  inches  high,  leaving 

—77— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

the  remnant  of  their  faces  hght  and  bare.  They  stand  for 
the  most  part  about  three  spans  high  in  their  grass  shppers. 
Their  noses  are  even  flatter  than  the  noses  of  the  INIulla- 
bruks.  Their  teeth  stand  out  somewhat,  giving  their 
small  faces  a  cunning  mouse-look,  which  never  changes. 
Their  eyes  are  round  and  thin-lidded,  and  almost  as  colour- 
less as  glass.  Yet  behind  their  glassiness  seems  to  be  set 
a  gleam,  like  a  far  and  tiny  taper  shining,  so  that  they 
are  perfectly  visible  in  the  dark,  or  even  dusk.  Thus  may 
they  be  seen,  a  horde  of  them  together  in  the  evening  gloom 
of  the  forest  when  they  go  Mulgar-hunting.  When  they 
are  closely  looked  on,  they  can,  as  it  were  within  their 
eyes,  shut  out  this  gleam — it  vanishes;  but  still  they  con- 
tinue to  see,  though  dimly.  By  day  their  eyes  are  as 
empty  as  pure  glass  marbles.  Their  smell  is  faintly  rank, 
through  eating  so  much  flesh.  The  she  and  young  JNIini- 
muls  feed  in  the  deeper  chambers  of  their  mounds,  and 
never  venture  out. 

Nod  was  falling  into  a  nap  from  weariness  and  pain, 
when  there  came  spindling  along  an  old  sallow-hued  Earth- 
mulgar,  whose  ej^es  were  pink,  rather  than  glass-grey,  like 
the  others.  He  shook  his  head  this  way,  that  way,  mut- 
tering his  magic  over  Nod;  then,  with  a  mottled  gourd 
beside  him,  he  very  gentty  and  dexterously  rolled  back 
the  strip  or  bandage  of  leaves  on  Nod's  shoulder,  and 
peered  close  into  his  poisoned  wound.  He  probed  it  softly 
with  his  hairless  fingers.  Then  out  of  the  pouch  hanging 
on  his  stomach  he  took  fresh  leaves,  smeared  and  stalked, 
a  little  clay  pot  of  green  healing-grease,  and  anointed  the 
sore.  This  he  rubbed  ever  so  smoothly  with  his  two  mid- 
dle fingers.     After  which  he  bound  all  up  again  so  skil- 

—78— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

fully  with  leaves  and  grass  that  it  seemed  to  Nod  his 
wounded  shoulder  was  the  easiest  and  most  comfortable 
part  of  his  body.  Out  of  his  pinkish  eyes  he  gazed  greed- 
ily into  Nod's  face  for  a  moment,  and  took  his  departure. 

After  he  had  gone,  Nod  smoothed  his  face,  and  with 
his  own  comb  combed  himself  as  far  as  he  could  reach 
without  pain.  Presently  shuffled  along  two  or  three  more 
of  the  Mouse-faces  carrying  roasted  Nanoes  and  Mambel- 
berries,  and  a  kind  of  citron,  like  a  Keeri,  very  refreshing; 
also  a  little  gourd  of  very  thin  Subbub.  But,  although  he 
was  too  wretched  and  too  much  afraid  to  be  hungry,  and 
shuddered  at  sight  of  the  Minimul  food.  Nod  knew  he  must 
quickly  grow  strong  if  ever  he  and  his  brothers  were  to 
reach  the  Valleys  of  Tishnar.  So  he  ate  and  drank,  and 
was  refreshed.  Then  he  turned  to  a  little  sleek  Minimul 
that  tended  him,  and  asked  him  in  Munza-mulgar :  "Is  it 
day — sunshine?     Is  it  day?" 

The  little  creature  shook  his  head  and  shut  his  eyes,  as 
if  to  signify  he  did  not  understand  the  question. 

Nod  at  that  shut  his  eyes  too,  and  laid  his  cheek  on  his 
lean  little  hand,  as  if  to  say,  "Sleep." 

Thereupon  eight  thickish  Minimuls  came — four  on 
either  side — and  hoisted  up  by  its  handles  the  grass  mat 
on  which  he  lay,  while  others  went  before,  strewing  dried 
leaves  and  a  kind  of  forest-flower  that  smells  like  mint 
when  crushed,  and  carrying  lanterns  of  candle-worms, 
while  others  waddled  with  them,  beating  on  little  tambours 
of  Skeeto-skin — all  this  because  Nod  breathed  magic,  part 
his  own,  part  his  Wonderstone's. 

They  laid  him  down  in  a  sandy  chamber  strewn  with 
flowers.     And,  bowing  many  times,  their  heads  betwixt 

—79— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

their  rather  bandy  legs,  they  left  him.  When  they  were 
gone,  Nod  wriggled  softly  up  and  looked  about  him.  The 
chamber  was  round  and  caved,  and  on  the  walls  were  still 
visible  the  marks  of  the  IMinimuls'  hands  and  scoops  which 
had  hollowed  it  out.  Through  the  roof  a  rugged  root 
pierced,  crossed  over,  and  dipped  into  the  earth  again. 
The  candle-worms  cast  a  gentle  sheen  on  the  golden  sanded 
walls.  Hung  from  the  roof  were  strings  of  dried  flowers, 
shedding  so  heavy  and  languid  a  smell  in  the  narrow  cham- 
ber that  Nod's  drowsy  eyelids  soon  began  to  droop.  His 
bright  eyes  glanced  like  fireflies,  darting  to  and  fro  with 
his  thoughts.  But  the  odom*  of  the  flowers  soon  soothed 
them  all  to  rest.     Nod  fell  asleep. 

The  next  day  (that  is,  the  next  Minimul  day,  which 
is  JMunza  night)  crept  slowly  by.  Nod  was  never  left 
alone.  Every  hour  the  little  soft-shuffling  Mouse-faces 
tended  and  fed  and  watched  him,  and  burnt  little  magic 
sticks  around  him.  Three  dead  Skeetoes,  with  fast-shut 
eyes,  lay  on  the  floor,  shot  by  their  poisoned  darts  in  the 
dusk  of  the  evening,  when  he  was  carried  into  the  big  fire- 
chamber,  or  kitchen,  again.  They  were  soon  skinned  and 
trussed  by  the  hungry  Minimuls,  and  stretched  along  the 
spit.  The  smell  of  their  roasting  rose  up  in  smoke.  At 
last  came  sleeping-time  again.  And  then,  when  all  was 
silent.  Nod  rose  softly  from  his  grass-mat,  and  stealing 
down  the  low,  narrow  earth-run,  looked  out  into  the 
kitchen  where  he  had  lain  all  day.  The  fire  was  dying  in 
faintly  glowing  embers.  All  was  utterly  still.  But  which 
way  should  he  go  now,  he  wondered,  to  seek  his  brothers? 
And  which  of  these  dark  arches  led  to  the  open  forest, 
the  snow,  and  the  Assasimmon? 

—80— 


NOD   WAS   NKVKR    I.KKT   ALONE. 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

His  quick  eyes  caught  sight  of  the  thin  smoke  winding 
silently  up  from  the  logs.  Somewhere  that  must  escape 
into  the  air.  But  on  high  it  was  so  dim  he  could  scarcely 
see  the  roof,  only  the  steep  walls,  ragged  with  snake-skins, 
and  the  huge  pods  of  the  silky  poison-seed.  He  crept 
stealthily  under  one  of  the  arches  hung  at  the  entrance 
with  the  dried  carcass  of  a  little  fierce-faced,  snow-white 
Gunga  cub,  and  presently  came  to  where,  all  in  their  sandy 
beds,  with  their  tails  curled  up,  side  by  side  in  double  rows, 
the  mousey  Earth-mulgars  slept.  He  returned  to  the 
kitchen,  and  called  softly  in  the  hollow  cavern,  "Thumb, 
Thumb!" 

Only  his  own  voice  echoed  back  to  him.  Yet  a  sound 
feeble  as  this  awoke  the  light-sleeping  Minimuls.  For 
their  mounds  echo  more  than  mere  hollowness  would  seem 
to  make  them.  The  lightest  stir  or  footfall  of  beast  walk- 
ing above  in  Munza  may  be  heard.  Nod  had  only  just 
time  enough  to  scamper  up  his  own  narrow  corridor  and 
throw  himself  on  his  mat  before  a  score  of  shuffling  foot- 
falls followed,  and  he  felt  many  glassy  eyes  peering  closely 
into  his  face. 

All  the  rest  of  that  night  (and  for  the  few  nights  that 
followed)  Minimuls  stood  behind  his  bed  beating  faintly 
on  their  skin  Zoots  or  tambours,  while  two  others  sat  one 
on  each  side  of  him  with  fans  of  soporiferous  Moka-wood. 
But  though  they  might  lull  Nod's  lids  asleep,  they  couldn't 
still  his  busy  brain.  He  dreamed  and  dreamed.  Now, 
in  his  dreams  he  was  come  in  safety  to  his  Uncle  Assasim- 
mon's,  and  they  were  all  rejoicing  at  a  splendid  feast,  and 
he  was  dressed  in  beads  from  neck  to  heel,  with  a  hat  of 
stained  ivory  and  a  peacock's  feather.     Now  he  was  alone 

—81— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

in  the  forest  in  the  dark,  and  a  Talanteuti  was  lamenting 
in  his  ear,  "Xoom-anossi,  Nooni-anossi."  And  now  it 
seemed  he  sat  beneath  deep  emerald  waters  in  the  silver 
com'ts  of  the  Water-middens,  amid  the  long  gold  of  their 
streaming  hair.  But  he  would  awake  babbling  with  ter- 
ror, only  to  smell  the  creeping  odour  on  the  air  of  broil- 
ing JNIulgar. 

One  day  came  many  Earth-mulgars  from  distant 
mounds  to  see  this  Prince  of  Magic  whom  their  kinsmen 
had  captured  in  the  forest.  They  stared  at  him,  sniffed, 
bowed,  and  burned  smoulder-sticks,  and  then  were  led  off 
to  stare  too  at  fat  Thumb  and  fattening  Thimble.  And 
that  same  day  the  Minimuls  dragged  into  their  kitchen  a 
long  straight  branch  of  iron-wood,  which  with  much  lab- 
our they  turned  by  charring  into  a  prodigious  spit.  And 
Nod  knew  his  hour  was  come,  that  there  was  no  time  to 
be  lost. 

When  he  had  once  more  been  carried  on  his  mat  into  his 
own  chamber  or  sleeping-place,  he  drove  out  the  drum- 
ming and  fan-waving  Minimuls,  making  signs  to  them  that 
their  noise  and  odour  drove  sleep  away  instead  of  charm- 
ing it  to  him.  He  waited  on  and  on,  tossing  on  his  mat, 
springing  up  to  listen,  hearing  now  some  forest  beast 
tread  hollowly  overhead,  and  now  a  distant  cry  as  if  of 
fear  or  anguish.  But  at  last,  when  all  was  still,  he  very 
cautiously  fumbled  and  fumbled,  gnawed  and  gnawed  with 
his  sharp  little  dog-teeth,  until  in  the  dim  light  of  his 
worm-lantern  peeped  out  the  strange  pale  glowing  milk- 
white  Wonderstone,  carved  all  over  with  labyrinthine 
beast  and  bird  and  unintelligible  characters.  It  lay  there 
marvellously  beautiful,  as  if  in  itself  it  were  all  Munza- 

—82— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

mulgar,  its  swamps  and  forests  and  mountains  lying  tinied 
in  the  pale  brown  palm  of  his  hand,  and  as  full  of  chang- 
ing light  as  the  bellies  of  dead  fishes  in  the  dark.  He  got 
up  softly,  clutching  the  stone  tightly  in  his  hand.  He 
listened.  He  stole  down  his  sandy  gallery,  and  stood, 
small  and  hairy,  in  his  sheep-skin,  peering  out  into  the 
great  evil-smelling  kitchen.  Then  he  spat  with  his  spittle 
on  the  stone,  and  began  to  rub  softly,  softly,  three  times 
round  with  his  left  thumb  Samaweeza,  dancing  lightly,  and 
slowly  the  while,  with  eyes  tight  shut  and  ears  twitching. 

And  it  seemed  of  a  sudden  as  if  all  his  care  and  trouble 
had  been  swept  away.  A  voice  small  and  clear  called 
softly  within  him:  "Follow,  Ummanodda,  follow! 
Have  now  no  fear.  Prince  of  Tishnar,  Nizza-neela;  but 
follow,  only  follow!" 

He  opened  his  eyes,  and  there,  hovering  in  the  air,  he 
saw  as  it  were  a  little  flame,  crystal  clear  below,  but  mount- 
ing to  the  colour  of  rose,  and  shaped  like  a  little  pear.  As 
soon  as  he  looked  at  it  it  began  softly  to  stir  and  float  away 
from  him  across  the  glowery  kitchen.  And  again  the  mys- 
terious voice  he  had  heard  called  softly :  "Follow,  Prince 
of  Tishnar,  follow!"  With  shining  eyes  he  hobbled  war- 
ily after  the  little  flame  that,  burning  tranquil  in  the  air, 
about  a  span  above  his  head,  was  floating  quietly  on. 

It  led  him  past  the  gaunt  black  spit  and  the  dying  fire. 
It  wafted  across  the  great  kitchen  to  the  fifth  of  the  gloomy 
arches,  and  stealthily  as  a  shadow  Nod  stole  after  it.  Un- 
der this  arch  and  up  the  shelving  gallery  gently  slid  the 
guiding  flame.  And  now  Nod  saw  again  the  furry  Earth- 
mulgars,  lying  on  their  stomachs  in  their  sandy  beds, 
whimpering  and  snuffling  in  their  sleep.     On  glided  the 

—83— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

flame;  after  it  crept  Nod,  scarcely  daring  to  breathe. 
"Softly,  now  softly,"  he  kept  muttering  to  himself.  And 
now  this  gallery  began  to  slope  downward,  and  he  heard 
water  dripping.  A  thin  moss  was  growing  on  the  stony 
walls.  It  felt  colder  as  he  descended.  But  Nod  kept 
his  eyes  fixed  on  the  clear,  unswerving  flame.  And  in  the 
silence  he  heard  a  muffled  groan,  and  a  harsh  voice  mut- 
tered drowsily,  "Oo  mutchee,  nanga,"  and  he  knew  Thumb 
must  be  near. 

The  strange  voice  whispered:  "Hasten,  Ummanodda 
Nizza-neela;  full  moon  is  rising!"  Then  Nod  whimper- 
ing in  his  fear  a  little,  like  a  cat,  edged  on  once  more 
through  a  gallery  where  was  laid  up  on  sandy  shelves  a 
great  store  of  nuts  and  pods  and  skins  and  spits  and 
sharp-edged  flints.  And  at  last  he  came  to  where,  in  a 
filthy  hollow,  cold  and  lightless,  and  oozing  with  dark- 
glistening  water-drops,  his  brothers  Thimble  and  Thumb 
were  sleeping.  They  were  tied  hand  and  foot  with  Sama- 
rak  to  the  thick  root  of  a  Boobab-tree,  even  their  eyes 
bound  up  with  sticky  leaves.  Nod  hobbled  over  and  knelt 
down  beside  Thumb,  and  put  his  mouth  close  to  his  ear. 
"Thumb,  Thumb,"  says  he,  "it  is  Nod!  Wake,  Mulla- 
mulgar;  it  is  Nod  who  calls!"  And  he  shook  him  by  the 
shoulder.  Thumb  stirred  in  his  sleep  and  opened  his 
mouth,  so  that  Nod  could  see  the  hovering  flame  glistening 
on  his  teeth.  "Oohmah,  oohmah,"  he  grunted,  "na  nasmi 
mutta  kara  theartchen!"  Which  means  in  Mulgar-royal : 
"Sorry,  oh  sorry,  don't  whip  me,  mother  dear!"  And 
Nod  knew  he  was  dreaming  of  long  ago. 

He  shook  him  again,  and  Thumb,  with  a  kind  of  groan, 
rolled  over,  trembling,  and  seemed  to  listen.     "Thumb, 

—84— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Thumb,"  Nod  cried,  "it's  only  me ;  it's  only  Nod  with  the 
Wonderstone !"  And  while  Nod  was  stripping  off  the 
leaves  and  bandages  which  covered  Thumb's  eyes  he  told 
him  everything.  "And  don't  cry  out,  Thumb,  if  Tishnar's 
flame  burns  your  shins.  They've  tied  your  legs  in  knots 
so  tight  with  this  tough  Samarak,  my  fingers  can't  undo 
them."  So  Thumb  stretched  out  his  legs,  and  clenched 
his  hands,  while  the  flame  stooped  and  came  down,  and 
burned  through  the  Samarak.  He  rubbed  his  poor  singed 
shins  where  the  flame  had  scorched  them.  But  now  he 
stood  up.  Soon  his  arms  were  unbound,  and  Thimble,  too, 
was  roused  and  unloosed,  and  they  were  all  three  ready  to 
tread  softly  out. 

"Lead  on,  my  wondrous  fruit  of  magic!"  said  Nod. 

The  light  curtsied,  as  it  were,  in  the  air,  and  glided  up 
through  the  doorway;  and  the  three  Mulla-mulgars  crept 
out  after  it,  Thumb  and  Thimble  on  their  fours,  being  too 
stiff  to  walk  upright. 

"Hasten,  hasten,  Mulla-mulgars!"  said  Nod  softly. 
"The  full  moon  is  shining;  night  is  come.  The  pot  is 
ready  for  the  feast." 

So  one  by  one,  with  Nod's  clear  flame  for  guide,  they 
trod  noiselessly  up  the  sandy  earth-run.  It  led  them 
without  faltering  past  the  huddled  sleepers  again;  past, 
too,  where  the  she-Minimuls  lay  cuddling  their  tiny  ones, 
and  up  into  the  big  empty  kitchen.  Under  another  arch 
they  crept  after  it,  along  another  gallery  of  rough  steps, 
hollowed  out  of  the  sandy  rock,  beneath  great  tortuous 
roots,  through  such  a  maze  as  would  have  baffled  a  weasel. 

And  suddenly  Thumb  stopped  and  snuffed  and  snuffed 
again.     "Immamoosa,  Immamoosa!"  he  grunted. 

—85— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Almond  and  evening-blooming  Immamoosa  it  was,  in- 
deed, which  they  could  smell,  shedding  its  fragrance 
abroad  at  nightfall.  And  in  a  little  while  out  at  last  into 
the  starry  darkness  they  came,  the  great  forest-trees  stand- 
ing black  and  still  around  them,  their  huge  boughs  cloaked 
with  snow. 


V«''""''''. 


—86— 


'*'v3'iZ(l(4^'lC' 


CHAPTER  VII 


It  was  bitterly  cold,  and  as  the  three  travellers  stood  there, 
ragged  and  sore  and  hungry,  they  thought  they  would 
never  weary  of  gazing  at  the  starry  sky  and  sniffing  the 
keen  night  air  between  the  trees.  But  which  way  should 
they  go?  No  path  ran  here,  for  the  Earth-mulgars  never 
let  any  path  grow  clear  around  their  mounds.  Thumb 
climbed  a  little  way  up  a  Gelica-tree  that  stood  over  them, 
and  soon  espied  low  down  in  the  sky  the  Bear's  bright 
Seven,  which  circle  about  the  dim  Pole  Star.  So  he 
quickly  slid  down  again  to  tell  his  brothers.  It  so  hap- 
pened, however,  that  in  this  tree  grows  a  small,  round,  gin- 
gerish  nut  that  takes  two  whole  years  to  ripen,  and  hangs 
in  thick  clusters  amid  the  branches.  They  have  a  taste 
like  cinnamon,  and  with  these  the  Earth-mulgars  flavour 
their  meat.  And  as  Thumb  slid  heavily  down,  being  stiff 
and  sore  now,  and  very  heavy,  he  shook  one  of  these  same 
clusters,  and  down  it  came  rattling  about  Nod's  head. 

—87-^ 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

They  have  but  thin  shells,  these  nuts,  and  are  not  heavy,  but 
they  tumbled  so  suddenly,  and  from  such  a  height,  that 
Nod  fell  flat,  his  hands  thrown  out  along  the  snow.  He 
clambered  up,  rubbing  his  head,  and  in  the  quietness,  while 
they  listened,  they  heard  as  it  were  a  distant  and  continu- 
ous throbbing  beneath  them. 

Thimble  crouched  down,  with  head  askew.  "The 
Minimuls,  the  Zoots!"  he  grunted. 

But  even  at  the  same  moment  Nod  had  cried  out  too. 
"Thumb,  Thumb,  O  Mulla-mulgar,  the  Wonderstone!  the 
Wonderstone!  the  snow,  the  snow!"  No  pale  and  taper- 
ing light  hovered  clearly  beaming  now  beneath  these  cold 
and  starlit  branches.  The  Mounds  of  the  Minimuls  were 
awake  and  astir.  Soon  the  furious  little  Flesh-eaters 
would  come  pouring  up  in  their  hundreds,  and  to-morrow, 
their  magic  gone,  all  three  brothers  would  be  quickly  friz- 
zling, with  these  same  Gelica-nuts  for  seasoning,  on  the 
spit. 

Nod  flung  himself  down;  down,  too,  went  Thumb  and 
Thimble  in  the  ice-bespangled  snow.  At  last  they  found 
the  stone,  shining  like  a  pale  moon  amid  the  twinkling 
starriness  of  the  frost.  But  it  was  only  just  in  time. 
Even  now  they  could  hear  the  far-away  crj^ing  and 
clamour,  and  the  surly  Zoot-beating  of  the  Earth-mulgars 
drawing  nearer  and  nearer. 

Without  pausing  an  instant.  Nod  cast  the  stone  into  his 
mouth  for  safety,  and  away  went  the  three  travellers, 
bundle  and  cudgel,  rags  and  sheep's-coat,  helter-skelter, 
between  the  silvery  breaks  of  the  trees,  scampering  faster 
than  any  Mulgar,  Mulla,  or  Munza  had  ever  run  before. 
The  snow  was  crisp  and  hard;  their  worn  and  hardened 

—88— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

feet  made  but  the  faintest  flip-flap  in  the  hush.  And 
scarcely  had  they  run  their  first  short  wind  out,  when  lo 
and  behold !  there,  in  a  leafy  bower  of  snow  in  their  path, 
three  short-maned  snorting  little  Horses  of  Tishnar,  or 
Zevveras,  stood,  rearing  and  chafing,  and  yet  it  seemed 
tethered  invisibly  to  that  same  frosty  stable  by  a  bridle 
from  which  they  could  not  break  away. 

They  whinnied  in  concert  to  see  these  scampering  Mul- 
gars  come  panting  over  the  snow.  And  Nod  remembered 
instantly  the  longed-for  gongs  and  stripes  of  his  childhood, 
and  he  called  like  a  parakeet:  "Tishnar,  O  Tishnar!" 
He  could  say  no  more.  The  Wonderstone  that  had  lain 
couched  on  his  tongue,  as  he  opened  his  mouth,  slid  softly 
back,  paused  for  his  cry,  and  the  next  instant  had  glided 
down  his  throat.  But  by  this  time  Thumb  had  straddled 
the  biggest  of  the  little  plunging  beasts.  And,  like  ar- 
rows from  the  Gunga's  bow,  each  with  his  hands  clasped 
tight  about  his  Zevvera's  neck,  away  went  Thumb,  away 
went  Thimble,  away  went  Nod,  the  night  wind  whistling 
in  their  ears,  their  rags  a-flutter,  the  clear  stripes  of  the 
Zevveras  winking  in  the  rising  moon. 

But  the  Little  Horse  of  Tishnar  which  carried  Nod  upon 
his  back  was  by  much  the  youngest  and  smallest  of  the 
three.  And  soon,  partly  because  of  his  youth,  and  partly 
because  he  had  started  last,  he  began  to  fall  farther  and 
farther  behind.  And  being  by  nature  a  wild  and  untam- 
able beast,  his  spirit  flamed  up  to  see  his  brothers  out- 
stripping him  so  fast.  He  flung  up  his  head  with  a  shrill 
and  piercing  whinny,  and  plunged  foaming  on.  The 
trees  winked  by.  Now  up  they  went,  now  down,  into  deep 
and  darkling  glades,  now  cantering  softly  over  open  and 

—89— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

moon-swamped  snow.  If  only  he  could  fling  the  clumsy, 
clinging  ^Nlulgar  off  his  back  he  would  soon  catch  up  his 
comrades,  who  were  fast  disappearing  between  the  trees. 
He  jumped,  he  reared,  he  kicked,  he  plunged,  he  wriggled, 
he  whinnied.  Now  he  sped  like  the  wind,  then  on  a  sud- 
den stopped  dead,  with  all  four  quivering  legs  planted 
firmly  in  the  snow.  But  still  Nod,  although  at  every 
twist  and  turn  he  slipped  up  and  down  the  sleek  and  slip- 
pery shoulders,  managed  to  cling  fast  with  arms  and  legs. 

Then  the  cunning  beast  chose  all  the  lowest  and  brushi- 
est  trees  to  run  under,  whose  twigs  and  thorns,  like  thick 
besoms,  lashed  and  scratched  and  scraped  his  rider.  But 
Nod  wriggled  his  head  under  his  sheep's-coat,  and  still 
held  on.  At  last,  maddened  wuth  shame  and  rage,  the 
Zevvera  flung  back  his  beautiful  foam-flecked  face,  and 
with  his  teeth  snapped  at  Nod's  shoulder.  The  Mulgar's 
wound  was  not  quite  healed.  The  gleaming  teeth  just 
scraped  his  sore.  Nod  started  back,  with  unclasped  hands, 
and  in  an  instant,  head  over  heels  he  shot,  plump  into  the 
snow,  and  before  he  could  turn  to  scramble  up,  with  a 
triumphing  squeal  of  delight,  the  little  Ze-v^^era  had  van- 
ished into  the  deep  shadows  of  the  moon-chequered  forest. 

At  last  Nod  managed  to  get  to  his  feet  again.  He 
brushed  the  snow  out  of  his  eyes,  and  spat  it  out  of  his 
mouth.  The  Zevvera's  hoof -prints  were  plain  in  the  snow. 
He  would  follow  them,  he  thought,  till  he  could  follow  no 
longer.  His  brothers  had  forsaken  him.  His  Wonder- 
stone  was  gone.  He  felt  it  even  now  burning  like  a  tiny 
fire  beneath  his  breast-bone.  He  limped  slowly  on.  But 
at  every  step  he  stumbled.  His  shoulder  throbbed.  He 
could  scarcely  see,  and  in  a  little  while  down  he  fell  again, 

—90 — 


Itf.  LodKrop 


HE  JUMPED,    HE   REARED,    HE    KICKED,    HE 
PLUNGED,    HE    WRTGGI.ED,     HE    WHINNIED. 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

He  lay  still  now,  rolled  up  in  his  jacket,  wishing  only  to 
die  and  be  at  peace.  Soon,  he  thought,  the  prowling 
Minimuls  would  find  him,  stiff  and  frozen.  They  would 
wrap  him  up  in  leaves,  and  carry  him  home  between  them 
on  a  pole  to  their  mounds,  and  pick  his  small  bones  for  the 
morrow's  supper.  Everything  he  had  done  was  foolish 
— the  fire,  the  wild  pig,  the  Ephelantoes.  He  could  not 
even  ride  the  smallest  of  the  Little  Horses  of  Tishnar. 
The  languid  warmth  of  his  snow-bed  began  to  lull  his 
senses.  The  moon  streamed  through  the  trees,  silvering 
the  branches  with  her  splendour.  And  in  the  beautiful 
glamour  of  the  moonbeams  it  seemed  to  Nod  the  air  was 
aflock  with  tiny  wings.  His  heavy  eyelids  drooped.  He 
was  falling  softly — falling,  falling — when  suddenly,  close 
to  his  ear,  a  harsh  and  angry  voice  broke  out. 

"Hey,  Mulgar!  hey,  Slugabones!  how  come  you  here? 
What  are  you  doing  here?" 

He  opened  his  eyes  drowsily,  and  saw  an  old  grey 
Quatta  hare  staring  drearily  into  his  face  with  large 
whitening  eyes. 

"Sleep,"  he  said,  softly  blinking  into  her  face. 

"Sleep!"  snarled  the  old  hare.  "You  idle  Mulgars 
spend  all  your  days  eating  and  sleeping!" 

Nod  shut  his  eyes  again.  "Do  not  begrudge  me  this, 
old  hare,"  he  said;  "  'tis  Noomanossi's." 

"Where  did  you  steal  that  sheep's-coat,  Mulgar?  And 
how  came  you  and  the  ugly  ones  to  be  riding  under  my 
Dragon-tree  on  the  Little  Horses  of  Tishnar?" 

"Why,"  replied  Nod,  smiling  faintly,  "I  stole  my 
sheep's-coat  from  my  mother,  who  gave  it  me;  and  as 
for  'riding  on  the  Little  Horses' — here  I  am!" 

—91— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"Where  have  you  come  from?  Where  are  you  going 
to?"  asked  the  old  hare,  staring. 

"I've  come  from  the  Flesh-mounds  of  the  ^linimuls, 
and  I  think  I'm  going  to  die,"  said  Nod — "that  is,  if  this 
old  Quatta  will  let  me." 

The  old  hare  stiffened  her  long  grey  ears,  and  stamped 
her  foot  in  the  snow.  "You  mustn't  die  here,"  she  said. 
"No  Mulgar  has  ever  died  here.  This  forest  belongs 
to  me." 

In  spite  of  all  his  aches  and  pains,  Nod  grinned.  "Then 
soon  you  will  have  Nod's  little  bones  to  fence  it  in  with," 
he  said. 

The  old  hare  eyed  him  angrily.  "If  you  weren't  dying, 
impudent  Mulgar,  I'd  teach  you  better  manners." 

Nod  wriggled  closer  into  his  jacket.  "Trouble  not, 
Queen  of  Munza,"  he  said  softly.  "I  shouldn't  have  time 
to  use  them  now."  He  shut  his  eyes  again,  and  all  his 
pain  seemed  to  be  floating  away  in  sleep. 

The  old  hare  sat  up  in  the  snow  and  listened.  "What's 
amiss  in  Munza-mulgar?"  she  muttered  to  herself.  "First 
these  galloping  Horses  of  Tishnar,  one,  two,  three;  now 
the  angry  Zoots  of  the  Minimuls,  and  all  coming  nearer?" 
But  Nod  was  far  away  in  sleep  now,  and  numb  with  cold. 

She  tapped  his  little  shrunken  cheek  with  her  foot. 
"Even  in  your  sleep,  Mulgar,  you  mustn't  dream,"  she 
said.  "None  may  dream  in  my  forest."  But  Nod  made 
no  answer  even  to  that.  She  sat  stiff  up  again,  twitching 
her  lean,  long,  hairy  ears,  now  this  way,  now  that  way. 
"Fob,  Earth-mulgars!"  she  said  to  herself.  She  stamped 
in  the  snow,  and  stamped  again.     And  in  a  minute  an- 

—92— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

other  old  Quatta  came  louping  between  the  trees,  and  siat 
down  beside  her. 

"Here's  an  old  sheep's- jacket  I've  found,"  said  the  old 
Queen  Quatta,  "with  a  little  Mulgar  inside  it.  Let  us 
carry  it  home.  Sister,  or  the  Minimuls  will  steal  him  for 
their  feast." 

The  other  old  Quatta  raised  her  lip  over  her  long  curved 
teeth.  "Pull  out  the  Mulgar  first,"  she  said, 
i  But  Mishcha  said:  "No,  it  is  a  strange  Mulgar,  a 
Mulla-mulgar,  a  Nizza-neela,  and  he  smells  of  magic. 
Take  his  legs.  Sister,  and  I  will  carry  his  head.  There's 
no  time  to  be  lost."  So  these  two  old  Quatta  hares 
wrapped  Nod  round  tight  in  his  sheep-skin  coat,  and  car- 
ried him  off  between  them  to  their  form  or  house  in  an 
enormous  hollow  Dragon-tree  unimaginably  old,  and  very 
snug  and  warm  inside,  with  cotton-leaf,  feathers,  and  dry 
tree-moss.  There  they  laid  him  down,  and  pillowed  him 
round.  And  Mishcha  hopped  out  again  to  watch  and  wait 
for  the  Minimuls. 

Sheer  overhead  the  pygmy  moon  stood,  when  with 
drums  beating  and  waving  cudgels,  in  their  silvery  girdles, 
leopard-skin  hats,  and  grass  shoes,  thirty  or  forty  of  the 
fury  Minimuls  appeared,  hobbling  handily  along,  follow- 
ing the  hoof-prints  of  the  galloping  Zevveras  in  the  snow. 
But  little  clouds  in  passing  had  scattered  their  snow,  and 
the  track  had  begun  to  grow  faint.  The  old  hare  watched 
these  Earth-mulgars  draw  near  without  stirring.  Like 
all  the  other  creatures  of  Munza-mulgar,  she  hated  these 
groping,  gluttonous,  cannibal  gnomes.  When  they 
reached  the  place  where  Nod  had  fallen,  the  Minimuls 

—93— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

stood  still  and  peered  and  pointed.  In  a  little  while  they 
came  scuttling  on  again,  and  there  sat  old  IMishcha  un- 
der a  great  thorn-bush,  gaunt  in  the  snow. 

They  stood  round  her,  waving  their  darts,  and  squeak- 
ing questions.  She  watched  them  without  stirring. 
Their  round  eyes  glittered  beneath  their  spotted  leopard- 
skin  hats  as  they  stood  in  their  shimmering  grasses  in  the 
snow. 

"When  so  many  squall  together,"  she  said  at  last,  "I 
cannot  hear  one.     What's  your  trouble  this  bright  night?" 

Then  one  among  them,  with  a  girdle  of  Mulla-bruk's 
teeth,  bade  the  rest  be  silent. 

"See  here,  old  hare,"  he  said;  "have  any  filthy  Mulgars 
passed  this  way,  one  tall  and  bony,  one  fat  and  hairy,  and 
one  little  and  cunning?" 

Mishcha  stared.  "One  and  one's  two,  and  one's  three," 
she  said  slowly.     "Yes,  truly — three." 

"Three,  three!"  they  cried  all  together — "thieves, 
thieves!" 

Mishcha's  face  wrinkled.  "All  Mulgars  are  thieves," 
she  said;  "some  even  eat  flesh.     Ugh!" 

At  this  the  Minimul-mulgars  grew  angry,  their  glassy 
eyes  brightened.  They  raised  their  snouts  in  the  air  and 
waved  their  darts.  But  the  old  hare  sat  calmly  under 
her  roof  of  poisonous  thorns. 

"Answer  us,  answer  us,"  they  squeaked,  "y^^  dumb  old 
Quatta!" 

"H'm,  h'm!"  said  Mishcha,  staring  solemnly.  "Mul- 
gars? There  are  hundreds,  and  tens  of  hundreds  of  Mul- 
gars in  my  forest,  of  more  kinds  and  tribes  than  I  have 
hairs  on  my  scut.     How  should  old  Mishcha  raise  an  eye- 

—94— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

lid  at  only  three?  Olory  mi,  my  third-gone  grandmother 
used  to  tell  me  many  a  story  of  you  thieving,  gluttonous 
Mulgars,  all  alike,  all  alike.  It's  sad  when  one's  old  to 
remember,  but  it's  sadder  to  forget." 

Clouds  had  stolen  again  over  the  moon,  and  snow  was 
falling  fast.  Let  these  evil-smelling  Minimuls  chatter  but 
a  little  longer,  she  thought;  not  a  hoof -print  would  be 
left. 

"Listen,  old  hare,"  said  the  chief  of  the  Minimuls. 
"Have  you  seen  three  Mulgars  pass  this  way,  two  in  red 
jackets,  and  one,  a  Nizza-neela,  in  a  sheep's  coat,  and  all 
galloping,  galloping,  on  three  Little  Horses  of  Tishnar?" 

Mishcha  gazed  at  him  stonily,  with  hatred  in  her  eyes. 
She  was  grey  with  age,  and  now  a  little  peaked  cap  of 
snow  crowned  her  head,  so  still  she  had  sat  beneath  the 
drifting  flakes.  "I  am  old — oh  yes,  old,  and  old  again," 
she  said.  "I  have  ruled  in  Munza-mulgar  one  hundred, 
two  hundred,  five  hundred  years,  but  I  never  yet  saw  a 
Mulgar  riding  on  a  Little  Horse  of  Tishnar.  Tell  me, 
Wise  One,  which  way  did  they  sit — with  the  stripes,  or 
cross-cross?" 

"Answer  us,  grandam,"  squealed  one  of  the  Minimuls 
in  a  fury,  "or  I'll  stick  a  poisoned  dart  down  your  throat." 

Mishcha  smiled.  "Better  a  Minimul's  dart  than  no  sup- 
per at  all,"  she  said.  "Swallow  thy  tongue,  thou  Mul- 
gar!" she  said;  and  suddenly  her  lips  curled  upward,  her 
two  long  front  teeth  gleamed,  her  hair  bristled.  "Hobble 
off  home,  you  thieving,  flesh-eating,  sun-hating  earth- 
worms! Hobble  off  home  before  ears  and  nose  and 
thumbs  and  toes  are  bitten  and  frozen  in  Tishnar's  snows  I 
Away  with  you,  moon-maggots,  grubbers  of  sand!"     She 

—95— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

stamped  with  her  foot,  her  old  eyes  greenly  burning  under 
the  bush. 

The  Minimuls  began  angrily  chattering  again.  At  last 
the  first  who  had  spoken  turned  mousily  and  said:  "To- 
day you  go  unharmed,  old  Quatta,  but  to-morrow  we  will 
come  with  fire  and  burn  your  Dragon-tree  about  your 
ears." 

Mishcha  stirred  not  one  hair.  "It's  sad  to  burn,  but 
it's  sadder  still  to  freeze."  Her  round  eyes  glared  beneath 
her  snow-cap.  "A  long  march  home  to  you,  JNIinnikin- 
mulgar !  A  long  march  home !  And  if  I  should  smell  out 
the  Sheep's- jacket  on  his  Little  Horse  of  Tishnar,  I  will 
tell  him  where  to  find  you — burnt,  bitten,  brittle,  baked 
hard  in  frozen  snow!"  She  turned  and  began  to  hop  off 
slowly  between  the  shadow-casting  trees. 

At  this,  one  of  the  Minimuls  in  his  fury  lifted  a  dart 
and  flung  it  at  the  old  hare.  It  stuck,  quivering,  in  her 
shoulder.  She  turned  slowly,  and  stared  at  him  through 
the  falling  flakes;  then,  drawing  the  dart  out  with  one  of 
her  forefeet,  she  spat  on  the  point,  and  laid  it  softly  down 
in  the  snow.  And  so  wildly  she  gazed  at  them  out  of  her 
aged  and  whitening  eyes  that  the  Minimuls  fell  into  a  sud- 
den terror  of  the  old  witch-hare,  and  without  another  word 
turned  back  in  silence  and  scuffled  off  in  the  thick  falling 
snow  by  the  way  they  had  come. 

Old  Mishcha  watched  them  till  they  were  hidden  from 
sight  by  the  trees  and  the  clouding  snow-flakes ;  then,  mut- 
tering a  little  to  herself,  nodding  her  thin  long  ears,  she, 
too,  turned  and  hopped  off  quickly  to  her  house  in  the 
old  Dragon-tree. 

—96— 


CHAPTER  VIII 


Nod  still  lay  huddled  up  in  his  jacket,  his  small,  hairy  face 
all  drawn  and  grey,  his  eyes  tight-shut  and  sorrowful 
beneath  their  thick  black  lashes.  Mishcha  squatted  over 
him,  and  put  her  head  down  close  to  his  little  body.  "He 
breathes  no  more,  sister,  than  a  moth  or  an  Immamoosa- 
bud." 

"Let  us  drag  him  out  of  his  sheep-skin,  and  bury  him 
in  the  snow,"  said  Moha. 

But  Mishcha  hstened  more  closely  still.  "I  hear  his 
heart  beating;  I  hear  his  drowsy  blood  just  come  and  go. 
But  what  is  it  that,  sweeter  than  a  panther's  breath,  smells 
so  of  Magic?  We  must  not  harm  the  little  Mulgar,  sister ; 
he  is  cunning.  A  Meermut  of  Magic  would  soon  return 
to  plague  us."  So  she  wrapped  him  up  still  closer  in  dry 
leaves  and  tree-moss,  and  opened  his  mouth  to  sprinkle  a 
pinch  of  snow  between  his  lips. 

All  that  night  and  the  next  day  Nod  slept  without 

—97— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

stirring.  But  the  evening  after  that,  when  the  snow  had 
ceased  again,  he  opened  his  eyes  and  called  "Wallah, 
wallah!"  Mishcha  hopped  off  and  brought  him  snow  in 
a  plantain-leaf,  and  wrapped  him  up  still  warmer.  But 
the  little  dry  herbs  and  powdered  root  she  put  on  his 
tongue  he  choked  at,  and  could  not  swallow.  His  shoul- 
der burned,  he  tossed  to  and  fro  with  eyes  blazing.  Now 
he  would  start  up  and  shout,  "Thumb,  Thumb!"  then  pres- 
ently his  face  would  all  pucker  up  with  fear,  and  he  would 
scream,  "The  fire,  the  fire!"  and  then  soon  after  he  would 
be  whispering,  "Muzza,  muzza,  mutta;  kara  mutta, 
mutta!"  just  as  if  he  were  at  home  again  in  the  little 
dried-up  Portingal's  hut. 

INIishcha  did  all  she  could  to  soothe  and  quieten  him. 
And  at  last  she  managed  to  make  him  swallow  a  little 
hard  bright  blue  seed  called  Candar,  which  drives  away 
fever  and  quiets  dreams.  But  old  Moha  eyed  him  angrily, 
and  wanted  to  throw  him  out  into  the  forest  to  die. 
"Who'd  sleep  in  a  jacket  that  a  gibbering  Mulgar  has  died 
in?"  she  said. 

When  the  next  night  was  nearly  gone,  but  before  it 
was  yet  day,  Nod  awoke,  cool  and  clear,  and  stared  into 
the  musty  darkness  of  the  Dragon-tree,  wondering  in  vain 
where  he  was.  Only  one  small  spark  of  light  could  he 
see — the  red  star  Antares,  that  was  now  burning  through 
a  little  rift  in  the  bark.  He  thought  he  heard  a  faint 
rustling  of  dry  leaves. 

"Hey,  there!"  he  called  out.     "Where  is  Nod?" 

"Hold  your  tongue,  thieving  Mulgar,"  cried  an  angry 
voice,  "and  let  honest  folk  sleep  in  peace." 

—98— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"If  I  could  see,"  Nod  answered  weakly,  "you  wouldn't 
sleep  much  to-night,  honest  or  no." 

"You  can't  see,"  answered  the  voice  softly,  "because, 
my  man  of  bones,  you  are  dead  and  buried  under  the 
snow." 

Nod  grew  cold.  He  pinched  his  legs;  he  opened  and 
shut  his  mouth,  and  took  long,  deep  breaths;  then  he 
laughed.  "It's  none  so  bad,  then,  being  dead,  Voice-of- 
Kindness,"  he  said  cheerfully,  "if  it  weren't  for  this  sore 
shoulder  of  mine." 

But  to  this  the  morose  voice  made  no  answer.  Not  yet, 
even,  could  Nod  remember  all  that  had  happened.  "Hey, 
there!"  he  called  out  again  presently,  "who  buried  me, 
then?" 

"Buried  you?  Why,  ^lishcha  and  Moha,  the  old  witch- 
hares,  who  found  you  snuffling  in  the  snow  in  your  stolen 
sheep's-coat — Mishcha  and  Moha,  who  wouldn't  touch 
monkey-skin,  not  for  a  grove  of  green  Candar-trees." 

"I  remember  Moha,"  said  Nod  meekly,  "a  gentle  and 
sleek,  a  very,  very  handsome  old  Quatta.  And  is  she  dead, 
too?" 

But  again  the  sour  voice  made  no  reply. 

"Once,"  said  Nod,  in  a  little  while,  "I  had  two  brave 
brothers.  I  wonder  where  those  Mulla-mulgars  are 
nowf 

"He  wonders,"  said  the  voice  slowly — "he  wonders! 
Frizzling,  frizzling,  frizzling,  my  pretty  Talk-by-Night, 
with  seven  smoking  Gelica-nuts  for  company  on  the  spit." 

At  this  Nod  fell  silent.  He  lay  quaking  in  his  warm, 
rustling  bed,  with  puckered  forehead  and  restless  eyes, 

—99— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

wondering  if  the  voice  had  told  him  the  truth,  while  day- 
break stole  abroad  in  the  forest. 

When  dusk  began  to  stir  within  the  Dragon-tree,  Mish- 
cha  awoke  and  came  and  looked  at  him. 

She  hearkened  at  his  ribs  and  mouth,  and  there  seemed, 
Nod  thought,  a  little  kindness  in  her  ways.  So  he  put 
out  his  shrunken  hand,  and  said:  "Tell  me  truly,  witch- 
hare.  A  voice  in  the  night  was  merry  with  me,  and  told 
me  for  pleasure  that  my  brothers  Thumb  and  Thimble 
were  frizzling  on  the  cannibal  Minimuls'  spits.  That  is 
not  true?" 

"  'One  long  and  lean,'  "  said  Mishcha,  "  'one  fat  and 
very  heavy,  and  one  sly  and  tiny,  a  Nizza-neela.'  Here's 
the  Nizza-neela  Mulla-mulgar ;  I  know  nothing  of  the 
others." 

"Ah,  then,"  said  Nod,  starting  up  out  of  his  bed,  "I  must 
be  off  to  look  for  them.  Their  Little  Horses  ran  faster 
than  mine.  And  mine,  he  was  a  coward,  and  nibbled  my 
sore  shoulder  to  make  me  loose  hold.  But  he  could  not 
buck  or  scrape  me  off,  witch-hare,  tried  he  never  so  hard. 
I  must  be  off  at  once  to  look  for  my  brothers.  If  they  are 
dead,  then  I  die  too." 

"Well,  well,"  said  the  old  hare,  "it's  sad  to  die,  but 
it's  sadder  to  live  alone.  But  tell  me  first  one  thing," 
she  said.  "Where  have  these  strange  Mulgars  come  from 
in  their  rags  and  bravery?" 

"Ohe,"  said  Nod,  and  told  her  who  they  were. 

"And  tell  me  just  one  thing  more,"  she  said,  when  he 
had  finished.  "Wliere,  little  Mulgar,  is  all  this  Magic 
I  can  smell?" 

And  at  that  question  Nod  thought  he  could  never  keep 

—100— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-?*IULGARS 

from  laughing.  But  he  looked  very  solemn,  and  said: 
"There  are  three  things,  old  hare,  I  always  carry  about 
with  me — one  is  my  sheep's- jacket,  one  is  hunger,  and 
the  other  is  Magic;  and  the  Magic  just  now  is  where  my 
hunger  is." 

The  old  hare  eyed  him  narrowly.  "Well,"  she  said, 
"wherever  it  is,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  the  Magic,  little  Mul- 
gar,  the  Jaccatrays  would  have  been  quarrelling  over 
your  bones.  But  there!  remember  old  Mishcha  sometimes 
in  your  travels,  who  hated  every  Mulgar  except  just  one 
little  one!"  She  bade  him  be  very  quiet,  for  her  sister, 
after  the  night's  talk,  still  lay  fast  asleep,  her  eyes  wide 
open,  in  the  gloom. 

And  she  put  Ukka-nuts,  and  dried  berries  and  fruits 
of  many  kinds,  and  seven  pepper-pods  into  his  pockets, 
and  buttoned  the  flaps.  And  she  gave  him  also  some 
powdered  physic-nuts,  three  bright-blue  Candar-seeds, 
and  a  little  bunch  of  faded  saffron-flower  for  a  protection 
against  the  teeth  of  the  dreaded  Coccadrillo.  She  tied  up 
his  shoulder  with  soft  clean  moss,  and  fetched  him  a  stout 
stick  for  cudgel  out  of  the  forest.  And  then  she  hobbled 
out  with  him  to  see  him  on  his  way.  Dawn  lay  rosy  and 
still  upon  the  snow-laden  branches. 

"Where  burns  the  Sulemnagar,  old  hare?"  said  Nod, 
pretending  utter  bravery.  And  the  wise  old  Quatta  hare 
pointed  out  to  him  where  still  the  Sulemnagar  gleamed 
faint  and  silver  above  the  glistening  trees. 

So  Nod  thanked  her,  went  forward  a  few  paces,  and 
stepped  back  to  thank  her  again;  then  set  out  truly  and 
for  good. 

He  walked  very  cautiously,  spying  about  him  as  he  went. 

—101— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

The  red  sun  glinted  on  his  cudgel.  Once  he  saw  a  last 
night's  leopard's  track  in  the  snow.  So  he  roved  his  eyes 
aloft  as  well  as  to  left  and  right  of  him,  lest  she  should 
be  lying  in  wait,  crouched  in  the  branches.  A  troop  of 
Skeetoes  pelted  him  with  Ukka-nuts.  But  these,  as  fast 
as  they  threw  them  down,  he  gathered  up  and  put  into  his 
bulging  pockets,  and  waved  his  cap  at  them  for  thanks. 
They  gibbered  and  mocked  at  him,  and  flung  more  nuts. 
"So  long  as  it  isn't  stones,  my  long-tailed  friends,"  he 
said  to  himself,  "I  will  not  throw  back." 

After  a  while  he  came  to  where  Cullum  and  Samarak 
grew  so  dense  amid  the  tree-trunks  that  he  could  scarcely 
walk  upright.  But  he  determined,  as  his  mother  had  bid- 
den him,  to  keep  from  stooping  on  to  his  fours  as  long  as 
ever  he  could.  Tumbling  Numnuddies  startled  him,  call- 
ing in  the  au\  And  once  a  clouded  vulture  with  wings 
at  least  six  cudgels  wide  dropped  like  a  stone  upon  a  leaf- 
less Boobab-branch,  and  watched  him  gloatingly  go  limp- 
ing by. 

He  sat  down  in  his  loneliness  and  rested,  and  nibbled 
one  of  Mishcha's  nuts.  But  try  as  he  might,  he  could 
not  swallow  much.  When  once  more  he  set  out,  for  a 
long  way  some  skulking  beast  which  he  could  not  plainly 
see  stalked  through  the  nodding  grasses  a  few  paces  dis- 
tant from  him,  but  side  by  side.  He  flourished  his  cudffel, 
and  sang  softly  the  Mulla-mulgars'  Journey-Song  which 
Seelem  had  taught  him  long  ago: 

"That  one 
Alone 

Who's  dared,  and  gone 
To  seek  the  Magic  Wonderstone, 
—102— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

No  fear, 

Or  care, 

Or  black  despair, 

Shall  heed  until  his  journey's  done. 

"Who  knows 
Where  blows 
The  Mulgars'  rose. 
In  valleys  'neath  unmelting  snows — 
All  secrets 
He 

Shall  pierce  and  see. 
And  walk  unharmed  where'er  he  goes." 

Whether  it  was  the  Wonderstone  under  his  breast-bone, 
on  the  sight  of  his  cudgel,  or  a  distaste  for  his  shrill  voice 
and  skinniness,  Nod  could  not  tell,  but  in  a  little  while, 
when  he  stopped  a  moment  to  peer  between  the  thick 
streamers  of  Samarak,  the  secret  beast  was  gone.  Day 
drew  on.  He  saw  no  tracks  in  the  snow,  except  of  wild 
pig  and  long-snouted  Brackanolls.  The  only  sound  he 
heard  was  the  falling  of  frosted  clots  of  snow  from  the 
branches  of  the  trees  and  the  sad,  continuous  "Oo-ee,  oo-ee, 
oo-ee!"  of  the  little  rust-coloured  Bittock  amid  the  sun- 
lit snow.  He  did  not  dare  now  to  rest,  though  his  feet 
grew  more  painful  at  every  step,  and  his  j^oisoned  shoulder 
itched  and  ached. 

He  stumbled  on,  scarcely  heeding  where  his  footsteps 
were  leading  him.  Mulgar  flies,  speckled  and  humped, 
roused  by  the  cloudless  sun,  buzzed  round  his  eyes  and 
bit  and  stung  him.  And  suddenly  his  heart  stood  still 
at  sight  of  seven  amber  and  spotted  beasts  standing  amid 
the  grasses,  casting  a  league-long  shadow  with  their  necks 

—103— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

— such  beasts  as  he  had  never  seen  before.  But  they  were 
busy  feeding,  their  heads  and  tiny  horns  and  lustrous  eyes 
half  hidden  in  the  foliage  of  the  branches.  Nod  stared  in 
fear  and  wonder,  and  passed  their  arbour  very  softly  by. 
Night  began  to  fall,  and  the  long-beaked  bats  to  flit 
in  their  leathery  hoods,  seeking  small  birds  and  beasts  to 
quench  their  thirst.  It  seemed  now  to  Nod,  his  brave 
heart  fallen,  that  he  was  utterly  forsaken.  Darkness  had 
always  sent  him  scuttling  home  to  the  Portingal's  hut 
when  he  was  little.  How  often  his  mother  had  told  him 
that  Noomanossi  with  his  luring  harp-strings  roamed  these 
farther  forests,  and  strange  beasts,  too,  that  never  show 
their  faces  to  the  sun !  Worse  still,  as  he  lifted  his  poor 
wrinkled  forehead  to  the  tree-tops  to  catch  the  last  beams 
of  day,  he  felt  a  dreadful  presence  around  him.  Leopard 
it  was  not,  nor  Gunga,  nor  JNIinimul.  He  stood  still,  his 
left  hand  resting  on  its  knuckles  in  the  snow,  his  right 
clutching  his  cudgel,  and  leaning  his  round  ear  sidelong,  he 
listened  and  listened.  He  put  down  his  cudgel,  and  stood 
upright,  his  hands  clasped  behind  his  neck,  and  lifting  his 
flat  nose,  sniffed  and  sniffed  again  the  scarcely-stirring 
air.  There  was  a  smell,  faint  and  strange.  He  turned 
as  if  to  rush  away,  to  hide  himself — anywhere  away  from 
this  brooding,  terrifying  smell,  when,  as  if  it  were  a  little 
voice  speaking  beneath  his  ribs,  he  heard  the  words: 
"Fear  not,  Ummanodda;  press  on,  press  on!"  He  took 
up  his  cudgel  with  a  groan,  and  limped  quickly  forward, 
and  in  an  instant  before  he  could  start  back,  before  even 
he  could  cry  out,  he  heard  a  click,  his  foot  slipped,  out  of 
the  leaves  whipped  something  smooth  and  shining,  and  he 
was  jerked  into  the  air,  caught,  bound  fast  in  a  snare. 

—104— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

He  writhed  and  kicked,  he  spat  and  hissed.  But  the 
more  he  struggled,  the  tighter  drew  the  cord  round  his 
neck.  Everywhere,  faint  and  trembhng,  rose  the  strange 
and  dreadful  unknown  smell.  He  hung  quite  still.  And 
as  he  dangled  in  pain,  a  night-wandering  Bittock  on  a 
branch  above  him  called  piteously:     "Oo-ee,  oo-ee,  oo-ee!" 

"Why  do  you  mock  me,  my  friend?"  groaned  Nod. 

"Oo-ee,  oo-ee,  oo-ee!"  wailed  the  Bittock,  and  hopping 
down  slowly,  perched  herself  before  his  face.  Her  black 
eye  gleamed.  She  clapped  her  tiny  wings  above  her  head, 
and  softly  let  them  fold.  "Oo-ee,  oo-ee,  oo-ee!"  she  cried 
again. 

Nod  stared  in  a  rage:  "Oo-ee,  oo-ee!"  he  mocked  her 
feebly.  "Who's  caught  me  in  this  trap?  Why  do  you 
come  mocking  me,  swinging  here  to  die?  Put  out  my  eyes, 
Bird  of  Sorrow.     Nod's  tired  of  being  Nod." 

The  little  bird  seemed  to  listen,  with  rusty  poll  poked 
forward.  She  puffed  out  her  feathers,  raised  her  pointed 
bill,  and  piercingly  into  the  shadows  rang  out  her  trem- 
bling voice  again.  "Oo-ee,  oo-ee,  oo-ee!"  she  sang,  spread 
her  wings,  and  left  Nod  quite  alone. 

His  thong  twitched  softly.  He  shut  his  eyes.  And 
once  again,  borne  on  the  faint  cold  wind,  that  smell  came 
sluggishly  to  his  nostrils.  His  fears  boiled  up.  His  hair 
grew  wet  on  his  head.  And  suddenly  he  heard  a  distant 
footfall.  Nearer  and  nearer — not  panther's,  nor  Gunga's, 
nor  Ephelanto's.  And  then  some  ancient  voice  whispered 
in  his  memory:     "Oomgar,  Oomgar!"     Man! 


—105— 


CHAPTER  IX 


There  was  only  the  last  of  day  in  the  forest.  But  Nod, 
dangling  in  terror,  could  clearly  see  the  Oomgar  peering 
at  him  from  beneath  the  unstirring  branches — his  colour- 
less skin,  his  long  yellow  hair,  his  musket,  his  fixed,  glit- 
tering eyes.  And  there  came  suddenly  a  voice  out  of  the 
Oomgar,  like  none  the  little  Mulgar  had  ever  heard  in  his 
life  before.  Nod  screamed  and  gnashed  and  kicked.  But 
it  was  in  vain.     It  only  noosed  him  tighter. 

"So,  so,  then;  softly,  now,  softly!"  said  the  strange 
clear  voice.  The  Oomgar  caught  up  the  slack  end  of  the 
noose  and  wound  it  deftly  around  him,  binding  him  hand 
and  foot  together.  Then  he  took  a  long  steel  knife  from 
his  breeches  pocket,  cut  the  cord  round  Nod's  neck,  and 
let  him  di'op  heavily  to  the  ground.  "Poor  little  Pongo! 
poor  leetle  Pongo !"  he  said  craftily,  and  cautiously  stooped 
to  pick  him  up. 

Nod  could  not  see  for  rage  and  fear.     He  drew  back 

—106— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

his  head,  and  with  all  his  strength  fixed  his  teeth  in  that 
white  terrible  thumb.  The  Oomgar  sucked  in  his  breath 
with  the  pain,  and,  catching  up  the  little  Mulgar's  own 
cudgel  that  lay  in  the  snow,  rapped  him  angrily  on  the 
head.  After  that  Nod  struggled  no  more.  A  thick  piece 
of  cloth  was  tied  fast  round  his  jaws.  The  Oomgar 
slipped  the  barrel  of  his  musket  through  the  Cullum-rope, 
lifted  the  little  INIulgar  on  to  his  back,  and  strode  off  with 
him  through  the  darkening  forest. 

They  came  out  after  a  while  from  among  the  grasses, 
vines,  and  undergrowth.  The  Oomgar  climbed  heavily  up 
a  rocky  slope,  trudged  on  over  an  open  and  level  space  of 
snow,  across  an  icy  yet  faintly  stirring  stream,  and  came 
at  length  to  a  low  wooden  house  drifted  deep  in  snow,  in 
front  of  which  a  big  fire  was  burning,  showering  up  sparks 
into  the  starry  sky.  Here  the  Oomgar  stooped  and 
tumbled  Nod  over  his  shoulder  into  the  snow  at  a  little 
distance  from  the  fire.  He  bent  his  head  to  the  flames, 
and  examined  his  bitten  thumb,  rubbed  the  blood  off  with 
a  handful  of  snow,  sucked  the  wound,  bound  it  roughly 
with  a  strip  of  blue  cloth,  and  tied  the  bandage  in  a  knot 
with  his  teeth.  This  done,  making  a  strange  noise  with  his 
lips  like  the  hissing  of  sap  from  a  green  stick,  he  began 
plucking  off  the  wing  and  tail  feathers  of  a  large  grey  bird. 
This  he  packed  in  leaves,  and  uncovering  a  little  hole  be- 
neath the  embers,  raked  it  out,  and  pushed  the  carcass  in 
to  roast. 

He  squinnied  narrowly  over  his  shoulder  a  moment,  then 
went  into  his  hut  and  brought  out  a  cooking-pot,  which  he 
filled  with  water  from  the  stream,  and  put  into  it  a  few 
mouse-coloured  roots  called  Kiddals,  which  in  flavour  re- 

—107— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

semble  an  artichoke,  and  are  very  wholesome,  even  when 
cold.  He  hung  his  cooking-pot  over  the  fire  on  three  sticks 
laid  crosswise.  Then  he  sat  down  and  cleaned  his  musket 
while  his  supper  was  cooking. 

All  this  Nod  watched  without  stirring,  almost  without 
winking,  till  at  last  the  Oomgar,  with  a  grunt,  put  down 
his  gun,  and  came  near  and  stood  over  him,  staring  down 
with  a  crooked  smile  on  his  mouth,  between  his  yellow  hair 
and  the  short,  ragged  beard  beneath.  He  held  out  his 
bandaged  thumb.  "There,  little  master,"  he  said  coax- 
ingly,  "have  another  taste;  though  I  warn  ye,"  he  added, 
wagging  his  head,  "it'll  be  your  werry  last."  Nod's  rest- 
less hazel  eyes  glanced  to  and  fro  above  the  stifling  cloth 
wound  round  his  mouth.  He  felt  sullen  and  ashamed. 
How  his  brother  Thimble  would  have  scoffed  to  see  him 
now,  caught  like  a  sucking-pig  in  a  snare! 

The  Oomgar  smiled  again.  "Why,  he's  nowt  but  skin 
and  bone,  he  is ;  shivering  in  his  breeches  and  all.  Lookee 
here,  now.  Master  Pongo,  or  whatsomedever  name  you 
goes  by,  here's  one  more  chance  for  ye."  He  took  out  his 
knife  and  slit  off  the  gag  round  Nod's  mouth,  and  loosened 
the  cord  a  little.     Nod  did  not  stir. 

"And  who's  to  wonder?"  said  the  Oomgar,  watching 
him.  He  began  warily  scratching  the  little  Mulgar's 
head  above  the  parting.  "It  was  a  cruel  hard  rap,  my 
son — a  cruel  hard  rap,  I  don't  gainsay  ye;  but,  then,  you 
must  take  Andy's  word  for  it,  they  was  cruel  sharp 
teeth." 

Nod  saw  him  looking  curiously  at  his  sheep's- jacket, 
and,  thinking  he  would  show  this  strange  being  that 
Mulla-mulgars,  too,  can  understand,  he  sidled  his  hand 

—108— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

gently  and  heedf ully  into  his  pocket  and  fetched  out  one  of 
the  Ukka-nuts  that  old  Mishcha  had  given  him. 

At  that  the  Oomgar  burst  out  laughing.  "Brayvo!" 
he  shouted;  "that's  mother-English,  that  is!  Now  we's 
beginning  to  unnerstand  one  another."  He  poured  a 
little  hot  water  out  of  his  cooking-pot  into  a  platter  and 
put  it  down  in  the  snow.  Nod  sniffed  it  doubtfully.  It 
smelt  sweet  and  earthy  of  the  root  simmering  in  it.  But 
he  raised  the  platter  of  water  slowly  with  his  loosened 
hands,  cooled  it  with  blowing,  and  supped  it  up  greedily, 
for  he  was  very  thirsty. 

The  Oomgar  watched  him  with  an  astonished  counte- 
nance. "Saints  save  us!"  he  muttered,  "he  drinks  like  a 
Christian!" 

Nod  wriggled  his  mouth,  and  imitated  the  sound  as  best 
he  could.     "Krisshun,  Krisshun,"  he  grunted. 

The  stooping  Oomgar  stared  across  the  fire  at  Nod  in 
the  shadow  as  a  man  stares  towards  a  strange  and  formid- 
able shape  in  the  dark.  "Saints  save  us!"  he  whispered 
again,  crossing  himself,  and  sat  down  on  his  log. 

He  scraped  back  the  embers  and  stripped  the  burnt 
skin  and  frizzled  feathers  off  his  roasted  bird,  stuck  a 
wooden  prong  into  a  Kiddal,  and,  with  a  mouthful  of  bird 
and  a  mouthful  of  Kiddal,  set  heartily  to  his  supper. 
When  he  had  eaten  his  fill,  he  heaped  up  the  fire  with 
green  wood,  tied  Nod  to  a  thick  stake  of  his  hut,  so  that 
he  could  lie  in  comfort  of  the  fire  and  to  windward  of  its 
smoke;  then,  with  a  tossed-up  glance  at  the  starry  and 
cloudless  vault  of  the  sky,  he  went  whistling  into  the  hut 
and  noisily  barred  the  door. 

Softly  crooning  to  himself  in  his  sorrow  and  loneliness, 

—109— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Nod  lay  long  awake.  Of  a  sudden  he  would  sit  up,  trem- 
bling, to  glance  as  if  from  a  dream  about  him,  then  in  a 
little  while  would  lie  down  quiet  again.  At  last,  with 
hands  over  his  face  and  feet  curled  up  towards  the  fire,  he 
fell  fast  asleep. 

When  Nod  woke  the  next  morning  the  Oomgar  was 
already  abroad,  and  busy  over  his  breakfast.  The  sun 
burned  clear  in  the  dark  blue  sky.  Nod  opened  his  eyes 
and  watched  the  Oomgar  without  stirring.  He  stood  in 
height  by  more  than  a  hand's  breadth  taller  than  the 
Gunga-mulgar.  But  he  was  much  leaner.  The  Gunga's 
horny  knuckles  had  all  but  brushed  the  ground  when  he 
stood,  stooping  and  glowering,  on  legs  crooked  and  shape- 
less as  wood.  The  Oomgar's  arms  reached  only  midway 
to  his  knees;  he  walked  straight  as  a  palm-tree,  without 
stoojiing,  and  no  black,  cringing  cunning  nor  bloodshot 
ferocity  darkened  his  face.  His  hair  dangled  beaming 
in  the  sun  about  his  clear  skin.  His  hands  were  only 
faintly  haired.  And  he  wore  a  kind  of  loose  jacket  or 
jerkin,  made  of  the  inner  bark  of  the  Juzanda-tree  (which 
is  of  finer  texture  than  the  Mulgars'  cloth) ,  rough  breeches 
of  buffskin,  and  monstrous  boots.  But  most  Nod  watched 
flinchingly  the  Oomgar's  light  blue  eyes,  hard  as  ice,  yet 
like  nothing  for  strangeness  Nod  had  ever  seen  in  his  life 
before,  nor  dreamed  there  was.  But  every  time  they 
wheeled  beneath  their  lids  piercingly  towards  him  he 
closed  his  own,  and  feigned  to  be  asleep. 

At  last,  feeling  thirsty,  he  wriggled  up  and  crawled  to 
the  dish,  which  still  lay  icy  in  the  snow,  and  raised  it  with 
both  hands  as  far  as  his  manacles  would  serve,  and  thrust 
it  out  empty  towards  the  Oomgar. 

—110— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

The  Oomgar  made  Nod  a  great  smiling  bow  over  the 
tire  in  answer,  and  filled  it  with  water.  Then,  breaking 
off  a  piece  of  his  smoking  flesh,  he  flung  it  to  the  Mulgar 
in  the  snow.  But  Nod  would  not  so  much  as  stoop  to 
smell  it.  He  gravely  shook  his  head,  thrust  in  his  fingers, 
and  drew  an  Ukka-nut  out  of  his  pocket.  "And  who's  to 
blame  ye?"  said  the  Oomgar  cheerfully.  "It's  just  the 
tale  of  Jack  Sprat,  my  son,  over  again;  only  your  little 
fancy's  neether  lean  nor  fat,  but  monkey-nuts!"  He  got 
up,  and,  screening  his  eyes  from  the  sun,  looked  around 
him. 

Then  Nod  looked,  too.  He  saw  that  the  Oomgar  had 
built  his  hut  near  the  edge  of  a  kind  of  shelving  rock, 
which  sloped  down  softly  to  a  cliff  or  gully.  A  little 
half-frozen  stream  flowed  gleaming  under  the  sun  between 
its  snowy  banks,  to  tumble  wildly  over  the  edge  of  the 
cliff  in  blazing  and  frozen  spray.  Beyond  the  cliff 
stretched  the  azure  and  towering  forests  of  Munza,  im- 
measurable, league  on  league,  flashing  beneath  the  whole 
arch  of  the  sky,  capped  and  mantled  and  festooned  with 
snow.  Near  by  grew  only  thin  grasses  and  bushes  of 
thorn,  except  that  at  the  southern  edge  of  the  steep  rose 
up  a  little  company  or  grove  of  Ukka-nuts  and  Ollacondas. 
Toward  these  strode  off  the  Oomgar,  with  a  thick  billet  of 
wood  in  his  hand.  When  he  reached  them,  he  stood  un- 
derneath, and  flung  up  his  billet  into  the  tree,  just  as  Nod 
himself  had  often  done,  and  soon  fetched  down  two  or 
three  fine  clusters  of  Ukka-nuts.  These  he  brought  back 
with  him,  and  held  some  out  to  the  quiet  little  Mulgar. 

"There,  my  son,"  he  said,  "them's  for  pax,  which  means 
peace,  you  unnerstand.     I'm  not  afeerd  of  you,  nor  you 

—111— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

isn't  afeerd  of  me.  All's  spliced  and  shipshape."  So 
there  they  sat  beneath  the  blazing  sun,  the  dazzling  snow 
all  round  them,  the  Oomgar  munching  his  broiled  flesh, 
and  staring  over  the  distant  forest,  Nod  busily  cracking 
his  Ukka-nuts,  and  peeling  out  the  soft,  milky,  quincey 
kernel.  Nod  scarcely  took  his  bewitched  eyes  from  the 
Oomgar's  face,  and  the  longer  he  looked  at  him,  the  less 
he  feared  him.  All  creatures  else  he  had  ever  seen  seemed 
dark  and  cloudy  by  comparison.  The  Oomgar's  face  was 
strange  and  fair,  like  the  shining  of  a  flame. 

"Now,  see  here,  my  son,"  said  the  Oomgar  suddenly, 
when,  after  finishing  his  breakfast,  he  had  sat  brooding 
for  some  time:  "I  go  there — there,"  he  repeated,  pointing 
with  his  hand  across  the  stream;  "and  Monkey  Pongo,  he 
stay  here — here,"  he  repeated,  pointing  to  the  hut.  "Now, 
s'posin'  Andy  Battle,  which  is  me" — he  bent  himself 
towards  Nod  and  grinned — "s'posin'  Andy  Battle  looses 
off  that  rope's  end  a  little  more,  will  Master  Pongo  keep 
out  of  mischief,  eh?" 

Nod  tried  hard  to  understand,  and  looked  as  wise  as 
ever  he  could.  "Ulla  Mulgar  majubba;  zinglee  Oom- 
gar," he  said. 

Battle  burst  out  laughing.  "Ugga,  nugga,  jugga, 
jingles!     That's  it — that's  the  werry  thing,"  he  said. 

Nod  looked  up  softly  without  fear,  and  grinned. 

"He  knows,  by  gum!"  said  Battle.  "There  be  more 
wits  in  that  leetle  hairy  cranny  than  in  a  shipload  of  com- 
modores." He  got  up  and  loosened  the  rope  round  Nod's 
neck.  "It's  only  just  this,"  he  said.  "Andy  Battle  isn't 
turned  cannibal  yet — neither  for  white,  black,  nor  mon- 
key-meat.    I  wouldn't  eat  you,  my  son,  not  if  they  made 

—112— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

me  King  of  England  to-morrow,  which  isn't  Hkely  to  be, 
by  the  look  of  the  weather,  so  dont  ee  have  no  meddlin 
with  the  fire!" 

"Middlinooiddyvire,"  said  Nod,  mimicking  him  softly. 

And  at  that  Battle  burst  into  such  a  roar  of  laughter 
the  hut  shook.  He  filled  Nod's  platter  with  water,  and 
gave  him  the  rest  of  the  Ukka-nuts.  He  went  into  the 
hut  and  fetched  musket,  powder,  and  bullets.  He  put  a 
thick-peaked  hat  on  his  head,  then,  with  his  musket  over 
his  shoulder,  he  nodded  handsomely  at  the  httle  blinking 
Mulgar,  and  off  he  went. 

Nod  watched  him  stride  away.  With  a  hop,  skip,  and 
a  jump  he  crashed  across  the  frozen  water,  and  soon  disap- 
peared down  the  steep  path  that  led  into  the  forest. 
When  he  was  out  of  sight.  Nod  lay  down  in  the  shadow 
of  the  log-hut.  He  felt  a  strange  comfort,  as  if  there 
was  nothing  in  all  Munza-mulgar  to  be  afraid  of.  His 
rage  and  sullenness  were  gone.  He  would  rest  here 
awhile  with  this  Oongar,  if  he  were  as  kind  as  he  seemed 
to  be,  and  try  to  understand  what  he  said.  Then,  when 
his  feet  were  healed  of  their  sores  and  blains,  and  his  shoul- 
der was  quite  whole  again,  he  would  set  off  once  more 
after  his  brothers. 

All  the  next  day,  and  the  day  after  that,  Nod  sat 
patient  and  still,  tethered  with  a  long  cord  round  his  neck 
to  the  Oomgar's  hut.  When  Battle  spoke  to  him  he 
listened  gravely.  When  he  laughed  and  showed  his 
teeth.  Nod  showed  his  cheerfully,  too.  And  when  Battle 
sat  silent  and  cast  down  in  thought,  Nod  pretended  to  be 
unspeakably  busy  over  his  nuts. 

And  soon  the  sailor  found  himself  beginning  to  look 

—113— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

forward  to  seeing  the  hairy  face  j^eering  calmly  out  of  the 
sheep's- jacket  on  his  return  from  his  hunting.  On  the 
third  evening,  when,  after  a  long  absence,  he  came  home, 
tired  out  and  heavy-laden,  with  a  little  sharp-horned  Im- 
polanca-calf  and  a  great  frost-blackened  bunch  of  Nanoes, 
he  took  off  Nod's  halter  altogether  and  set  him  free. 

"There!"  said  he;  "we're  messmates  now,  Master 
Pongo.  Andy  Battle's  had  a  taste  of  slavery  himself, 
and  it  isn't  reasonable,  my  son.  It  frets  in  like  rusty 
iron,  my  son;  and  Andy's  supped  his  fill  of  it.  I  takes 
to  your  company  wonnerful  well,  and  if  you  takes  to 
mine,  then  that's  plain-sailing,  says  I.  But  if  them  apes 
and  monkeys  over  yonder  are  more  to  j^our  liking  than  a 
shipwrecked  sailor,  who's  to  blame  ye?  Every  man  to 
his  own,  says  I;  breeches  to  breeches,  and  bare  to  bare. 
The  werry  first  thing  is  for  me  and  you  to  unnerstand  one 
another." 

Nod  listened  gravely  to  all  this  talk,  and  caught  the 
sailor's  meaning,  what  with  a  word  here,  a  nod,  a  wink, 
or  a  smile  there,  and  the  jerk  of  a  great  thumb. 

"But  as  for  Andy  Battle,"  went  on  the  sailor,  "he  never 
were  much  struck  at  a  foreign  lingo.  So,  says  I,  Andy 
shall  learn  Master  Pongo  his'n.  And  here  goes!  That," 
said  he,  holding  up  a  great  piece  of  meat  on  his  knife — 
"that's  meat/' 

"  'Zmeat — ugh!"  said  Nod,  with  a  shudder. 

"And  this  here's  nuts,"  said  Battle. 

"  'Znuts!"  repeated  Nod,  rubbing  his  stomach. 

Battle  rapped  on  his  log.  "Excellentissimo!"  he  said. 
"He's  a  scholard  born.     Now,  monkeys  like  you,"  he 

—114— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

went  on,  looking  into  Nod's  face,  "if  I  make  no  mistake, 
the  blackamoors  calls  'Pongoes.'  " 

Nod  shook  his  head. 

"  No?     'Njekkoes,  then,"  said  the  sailor. 

Nod  shook  his  head  again.  "Me  Mulla-mulgar, 
Pongo — Jecco" — he  shook  his  head  vehemently — "me 
Mulla-mulgar  Ummanodda  Nizza-neela." 

The  Oomgar  laughed  aloud.  "Axing  your  pardon, 
then,  Master  Noddle  Ebenezer,  mine's  Battle — Andrew, 
as  which  is  Andy,  Battle." 

"Whizzizandy — Baffle,"  said  Nod,  with  a  jerk. 

"Famott^/"  said  the  sailor.  "Us  was  a  downright 
dunce  to  you,  my  son.  Now,  then,  hoise  anchor,  and 
pipe  up!  Andy  Battle  is  an  Englishman;  hip,  hooray! 
Andy  Battle " 

'  'Andy  Baffle '  " 

'  'Is  an '  " 


'Izzn- 


( i' 


'Is  an  Englishman.'  " 
"  'Izziningulissmum,'  "  said  Nod  very  slowly. 
"  'Hip,  hooray!'  "  bawled  Battle. 
'Ippooray!"  squealed  Nod.     And  Battle  rocked  to 
and  fro  on  his  log  with  laughter. 

"That's  downright  rich,  my  son,  that  is!  'Izzuninglus- 
hum !'    As  sure  as  ever  mariners  was  born  to  be  drownded, 

"We'll  sail  away,  o'er  the  deep  blue  say, 
And  to  old  England  we'll  make  our  way." 

A  piece  of  silver  for  a  paw-shake,  and  two  for  a  good- 
e'en.     Us  '11  make  a  fortune,  you  and  me,  and  go  and  live 

—115— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

in  a  snug  little  cottage  with  six  palm-trees  and  a  blacka- 
moor down  Ippleby  way.  Andrew  Battle,  knight  and 
squire,  and  Jack  Sprat,  Prince  of  Pongo-land.  Ay,  and 
the  King  shall  come  to  sup  wi'  us,  comfortable-like,  'twixt 
you  and  me,  and  drink  hisself  thirsty  out  of  a  golden 
mug." 

And  so  it  went  on.  Every  day  Battle  taught  Nod  new 
words.  And  soon  he  could  say  a  few  simple  things  in  his 
jNIulgar-English,  and  begin  to  make  himself  understood. 
Battle  taught  him  also  to  cook  his  meat  for  him,  though 
Nod  would  never  taste  of  it  himself.  And  Nod,  too,  out 
of  Sudd  and  Mambel-berries  and  Nanoes  and  whatever 
other  dried  and  frosted  fruits  Battle  brought  home,  made 
monkey-bread  and  a  kind  of  porridge,  which  Battle  at 
first  tasted  with  caution,  but  at  last  came  to  eat  with  relish. 

The  sailor  stitched  his  friend  up  a  jacket  of  Juzanda 
cloth,  with  Bamba-shells  for  buttons,  and  breeches  of 
buff -skin.  These  Nod  dyed  dark  blue  in  patches,  for  his 
own  pleasure,  with  leaves,  as  Battle  directed  him.  Battle 
made  him  also  a  pair  of  shoes  of  rhinoceros-skin,  nearly 
three  inches  thick,  on  which  Nod  would  go  sliding  and 
tumbling  on  the  ice,  and  a  cap  of  needlework  and  pea- 
cocks' feathers,  just  as  in  his  dream. 

There  were  many  things  in  Battle's  hut  gathered  to- 
gether for  traffic  and  pleasure  in  his  journey:  a  great  neck- 
lace of  Gunga's  or  Pongo's  teeth;  a  bagful  of  Cassary 
beads,  which  change  colour  wnth  the  hour,  a  bolt-eyed 
Joojoo  head,  a  bird-billed  throwing-knife,  also  beads  of 
Estridges'  eggs,  as  large  as  a  small  melon.  There  was 
also,  what  Battle  cherished  very  carefully,  a  little  fat  book 
of  566  pages  and  nine  woodcuts  that  his  mother  had  given 

—116— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

him  before  setting  out  on  his  hapless  voyagings,  with  a 
tongue  or  clasp  of  brass  to  keep  it  together.  Moreover, 
Battle  gave  Nod  a  j^iece  of  looking-glass,  the  like  of  which 
he  had  never  seen  before.  And  the  little  Mulgar  would 
often  sit  sorrowfully  talking  to  his  image  in  the  glass,  and 
bid  the  face  that  there  answered  his  own  be  off  and  find 
his  brothers.  And  Nod,  in  return,  gave  Battle  for  a 
keepsake  the  little  Portingal's  left-thumb  knuckle-bone 
and  half  the  faded  Coccadrillo  saffron  which  old  Mishcha 
had  given  to  him. 

Of  an  evening  these  castaways  had  music  for  their  com- 
pany— a  bell  of  copper  that  rang  marvellously  clear  across 
the  frosty  air,  and  would  bring  multitudes  of  night-birds 
hovering  and  crying  over  the  hut  in  perplexity  at  the 
sweet  and  hollow  sound.  And  besides  the  bell,  Battle 
had  a  cittern,  or  lute,  made  of  a  gourd,  with  a  Jugga- 
wood  neck  like  a  fiddle.  Stretched  and  pegged  this 
was,  with  twangling  strings  made  of  a  climbing  root  that 
grows  in  the  denser  forests,  and  bears  a  flower  lovelier 
than  any  to  be  seen  on  earth  beside.  With  Battle  thrum- 
ming on  this  old  crowd  or  lute,  Nod  danced  many  a 
staggering  hornpipe  and  Mulgar- jig.  ^loreover,  Battle 
had  taught  himself  to  pick  out  a  melody  or  two.  So,  then, 
they  would  dance  and  sing  songs  together — "Never,  tir'd 
Sailour,"  "The  Three  Cherrie-trees,"  "Who's  scene  my 
Deere  with  Cheekes  so  redde?"  and  many  another. 

Battle's  voice  was  loud  and  great;  Nod's  was  very 
changeable.  For  the  upper  notes  of  his  singing  were 
shrill  and  trembling,  and  so  the  best  part  of  his  songs 
would  go;  but  when  they  dipped  towards  the  bass,  then 
his  notes  burst  out  so  sudden  and  powerful,  it  might  be 

—117— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

supposed  four  men's  voices  had  taken  up  the  melody 
where  a  boy's  had  ceased.  It  pleased  Battle  mightily, 
this  night-music — music  of  all  the  kinds  they  knew,  white 
man's,  Jaqqua-music,  Nugga-music,  and  JNIuUa-mulgars'. 
Nod,  too,  often  droned  to  the  sailor,  as  time  went  on, 
the  evening  song  to  Tishnar  that  his  father  had  taught 
him,  until  at  last  the  sailor  himself  grew  familiar  with  the 
sound,  and  learned  the  way  the  notes  went.  And  some- 
times Battle  would  sit  and,  singing  solemnly,  almost  as  if 
a  little  forlornly,  through  his  nose,  would  join  in  too. 
And  sometimes  to  see  this  small  monkey  perched  up  with 
head  in  air,  he  could  scarce  refrain  his  laughter,  though  he 
always  kept  a  straight  face  as  kindly  as  with  a  child. 

But  the  leopards  and  other  prowling  beasts,  when  they 
heard  the  sound  of  their  strings  and  music,  went  mewing 
and  fretting;  and  many  a  great  python  and  ash-scaled 
poison-snake  would  rear  its  head  out  of  its  long  sleep  and 
sway  with  flickering  tongue  in  time  to  the  noisy  echoes 
from  the  rocky  and  firelit  shelf  above.  Even  the  Jack- 
Alls  and  Jaccatrays  squatted  whimpering  in  their  bands 
to  listen,  and  would  break  when  all  was  silent  into  such  a 
doleful  and  dismal  chorus  that  it  seemed  to  shake  the  stars. 


^118— 


p  P.U, 


CHAPTER  X 


It  was  many  a  day  after  Nod  had  been  taken  in  the  sail- 
or's snare,  and  one  very  snowy,  when  the  little  Mulgar, 
looking  up  over  his  cooking,  saw  Battle  come  limping 
white  and  blood-beslobbered  across  the  frozen  stream 
towards  home.  He  carried  nothing  except  his  gun, 
neither  beast  nor  bird.  He  stumbled  over  the  ice,  and 
walked  crazily.  And  when  he  reached  the  fire,  he  just 
tumbled  his  musket  against  a  log  and  sat  himself  down 
heavily,  holding  his  head  in  his  hands,  with  a  sighing 
groan.  Now,  this  was  the  fifth  day  or  more  that  Battle 
had  gone  out  and  returned  without  meat,  and  Nod,  in  his 
vanity,  thought  the  sailor  was  beginning  to  weary  of  flesh, 
and  to  take  pleasure  only  in  nuts  and  fruit,  as  the  Mulla- 
mulgars  do.  But  when  Battle  had  dried  up  the  deep 
scratch  on  his  neck,  and  eaten  a  morsel  or  two  of  Nod's 
fresh-baked  Nano-cake,  he  told  him  of  his  doings. 
Nod  could  even  now,  of  course,  only  understand  a  lit- 

—119— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

tie  here  and  there  of  what  Battle  said.  But  he  twisted 
out  enough  words  to  learn  that  the  sailor  was  astonished 
and  perplexed  at  finding  such  a  scarcity  of  game,  howso- 
ever far  or  cautiously  he  roamed  in  search  of  it. 

"Ay,  and  maybe  that's  no  great  wonder,  neether,  what 
with  this  everlasting  snow  and  all.  But  tell  me  this,  Nod 
Mulgar :  Why  does,  whenever  I  spies  a  fine  fat  four-legged 
breakfast  or  two-winged  supper  feeding  within  com- 
fortable musket-shot — why  does  a  howl  like  a  IVI'keesoe's, 
dismal  and  devilish,  break  out  not  fifteen  paces  off,  and 
scare  away  every  living  creature  for  leagues  around? 
Why  does  leopards  and  Jack- Alls  and  Jaccatrays  swarm 
round  Andy  Battle  when  he  goes  a-walking,  thick  as  cats 
round  cream?  They've  scotched  me  this  once,  my  son — 
an  old  she-leopard,  black  as  pitch  out  of  an  Ollacondy. 
And  I  could  have  staked  a  ransom  I  cast  my  eye  over  every 
bough.  Next  time  who's  to  know  what  may  happen? 
Nizza-neela  will  go  on  cooking  his  little  hot  niminy-cakes, 
and  wait  and  wait — onty  for  bones — only  for  Battle's 
bones,  Mulgar  inio.  What  I  says  is  this-how:  leopards 
and  Jaccatrays,  from  being  what  they  once  was,  two  or 
three,  one  to-day  and  three  to-morrow,  now  lurks  every- 
where, looking  me  in  the  face  as  bold  as  brass,  and  sniffling 
at  my  very  musket.  But,  there!  that's  all  plain-sailing. 
What  Andy  wants  to  know  for  sartin  sure  is :  what  beast  it 
is  grinds  out  so  close  against  his  ear  that  unearthly  human 
howling?  'Twixt  me  and  you  and  Lord  IMakellacolongee, 
it  criddles  my  very  blood  to  hear  it.  My  finger  begins 
tapping  on  the  musket-trigger  like  hail  on  a  millpond." 

Nod  listened,  puckered  and  intent,  and  looked  a  good 
deal  wiser  than  he  was.     And  when  supper  was  done  he 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

fetched  out  the  thick  rhmoceros-shoes  which  Battle  had 
made  him,  as  if  to  go  disporting  himself  as  usual  on  the 
ice.  But,  instead  of  this,  he  hid  them  behind  a  hummock 
of  snow,  and,  crossing  over  the  stream,  crept  to  the  edge 
of  the  snowy  shelf,  and  sat  under  an  Exxswixxia-bush, 
gazing  down  into  the  gloom,  silently  watching  and  listen- 
ing. He  heard  soft,  furtive  calls,  whimperings.  A 
startled  bird  flew  up  on  beating  wings,  and  far  and  near 
the  Jack- Alls  were  hollowly  barking  one  to  another  in  their 
hunting-bands.  But  he  saw  no  leopards  nor  heard  any 
voice  or  sound  he  knew  no  reason  for,  or  had  not  heard 
before.  Perha^^s,  he  thought,  his  dull  wits  had  misun- 
derstood the  Oomgar's  talk. 

He  was  just  about  to  turn  away,  when  he  heard  a  little 
call,  often  repeated,  "Chikka,  chikka,"  which  means  in 
Munza-mulgar,  "Bide  here,"  or  "Wait  awhile."  And 
there,  stealing  up  from  under  the  longer  grasses,  came  who 
but  IMishcha,  the  old  witch-hare.  But  very  slowly  and 
cautiously  she  came,  pretending  that  she  was  searching 
out  what  poor  fare  she  could  find  in  the  dismal  snow. 

When  she  was  come  close,  she  whispered:  "Move  not; 
stir  not  a  finger,  Mulla-mulgar;  speak  to  me  as  I  am.  I 
have  a  secret  thing  to  say  to  you.  These  seven  long  frozen 
evenings  have  I  come  fretting  abroad  in  my  forest  and 
watched  and  watched,  and  chikka'd  and  chikka'd,  but  you 
have  not  come.  Why,  O  Prince  of  Tishnar,  do  you  linger 
here  with  this  flesh-eating  Oomgar,  whose  gun  barks  Noo- 
manossi  all  day  long?  Why  do  you  think  no  more  of  your 
brothers  and  of  the  distant  valleys?" 

Nod  crouched  in  silence  a  little  while,  twitching  his  small 
brows.     "But  this  Oomgar  took  me  in  a  snare,"  he  said  at 

—121— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

last.  "And  he  has  fed  me,  and  been  like  my  own  father 
Seelem  come  again  to  me,  and  we  are  friends — 'messimuts,' 
old  hare.  Besides,  I  wait  only  until  I  am  healed  of  my 
blains  and  thorns,  and  my  shoulder  is  quite  whole  again. 
Then  I  go.  But  even  then,  why  has  the  old  Queen  duatta 
come  louping  through  Munza  all  these  seven  evenings  past, 
only  to  tell  me  that?" 

Mishcha  eyed  him  silently  with  her  whitening  eyes. 
"Not  so  blind  am  I  yet,  little  Mulgar,  as  not  to  creep  and 
creep  a  league  for  the  sake  of  a  friend.  Be  off  to-morrow, 
Nizza-neela!  What  knows  an  Oomgar  of  friendship? 
That  brings  only  the  last  sleep." 

"I  mind  not  the  last  sleep,  old  hare,"  said  Nod  in  his 
vanity.  "Did  I  fear  it  when  half- frozen  in  the  snow? 
Besides,  my  friend,  the  Oomgar,  whose  name  is  Battle, 
he  will  guard  me." 

Mishcha  crept  nearer.  "Has  not  the  little  Mulla-mul- 
gar,  then,  heard  Immanala's  hunting-cry?" 

Now,  Immanala  in  Munza  means,  as  it  were,  unstoried, 
nameless,  unknown,  darkness,  secrecy.  All  these  the  word 
means.  Night  is  Immanala  to  Munza-mulgar.  So  is 
sorcery.  So,  too,  is  the  dark  journey  to  death  or  the 
Third  Sleep.  And  this  Beast  they  name  Immanala  be- 
cause it  comes  of  no  other  beast  that  is  known,  has  no 
likeness  to  any.  Child  of  nothing,  wits  of  all  things, 
ravenous  yet  hungerless,  she  lures,  lures,  and  if  she  die 
at  all,  dies  alone.  By  some  it  is  said  that  this  Immanala 
is  the  servant  of  Noomanossi,  and  has  as  many  lives  as 
his  white  resting-tree  has  branches.  And  so  she  is  born 
again  to  haunt  and  raven  and  poison  Munza  with  cruelty 
and  strife.     All  this  Nod  had  heard  from  his  father  See- 

—122— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

lem,  and  his  skin  crept  at  sound  of  the  name.  But  he  pre- 
tended he  felt  no  fear. 

"Who  is  this  Immanala,  the  Nameless?"  he  scoffed 
softly,  "that  a  Mulla-mulgar  should  heed  her  yapping 
(uggagugga)  ?" 

"Ah,"  said  the  old  hare,  "he  boasts  best  who  boasts  in 
safety.  Mishcha,  little  Mulgar,  has  met  the  Nameless 
face  to  face,  and  when  I  hear  her  hunting-cry  I  do  not 
make  merry.  How  could  she  all  these  days  have  given  ear 
to  the  Oomgar's  gun  in  the  forest,  and  make  no  sign — 
she  who  has  for  her  servants  leopards  and  Jaccatrays  of 
many  years'  hunting?  Mark  this,  too,"  said  Mishcha,  "if 
the  little  Mulgar  were  not  the  chosen  of  Tishnar,  his 
Oomgar  would  long  ago  have  been  nothing  but  a  few 
picked  bones." 

The  old  hare  touched  him  with  her  long-clawed  foot, 
and  gazed  earnestly  into  his  face  with  her  half-blind, 
whitening  eyes.  "Yes,  Mulgar,"  she  said  at  last,  whisper- 
ing, "your  brothers  that  rode  on  the  little  Horses  of  Tish- 
nar are  none  so  far  away.  'Why,'  say  they  to  each  other, 
roosting  half-frozen  in  their  tree-huts — 'why  does  Um- 
manodda  betray  all  Munza-mulgar  to  the  Oomgar's  gun? 
He  is  no  child  of  Royal  Seelem's  now.'  " 

Nod's  heart  stood  still  to  hear  again  of  his  brothers,  and 
that  they  were  so  near.  And  Mishcha  promised  if  he 
would  abandon  the  Oomgar,  she  would  lead  him  to  them. 
Nod  gazed  long  into  the  gloom  before  he  sadly  answered : 

"I  cannot  leave  my  master,"  he  said,  "who  has  fed  and 
befriended  me.  I  cannot  leave  him  to  be  torn  in  pieces  by 
this  Beast  of  Shadows.  He  is  wise — oh,  he  is  wise!  He 
was  born  to  stand  upright.     He  fears  not  any  shadow. 

—123— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

He  walks  with  Noonias  beneath  every  tree.  He  kills,  old 
Mishcha — that  1  know  well — and  feeds  like  a  glutton  on 
flesh.  But  a  she-leopard  in  one  moon  eats  as  many  of  the 
Munza-mulgars  as  she  has  roses  on  her  skin.  As  for  the 
Nameless,  my  father  Seelem  told  me  many  a  time  of  her 
thirsty  tongue." 

Then  Mishcha  whispered  warily  in  Nod's  ear  in  the 
shadow  of  the  thorn-bush  beneath  which  they  sat,  turning 
her  staring  stone-coloured  eyes  this  way,  that  way.  "If 
the  Oomgar  were  safe  from  her,"  she  said,  scarcely  open- 
ing her  thin  lips  above  the  lean  curved  teeth,  "would  then 
the  little  Mulgar  go?" 

Nod  laughed.  "Then  would  I  go  on  all  fours,  O  Mish- 
cha, for  I  am  weary  of  waiting  and  being  far  from  my 
brothers.  Thumb  and  Thimble.  Then  would  I  go  at  once 
if  I  could  leave  the  Oomgar  quietly  to  his  hunting,  and 
safe  from  this  Shadow-beast  and  from  more  than  three 
lean  hunting  leopards  on  the  Ollaconda  boughs  at  one 
time." 

Then  INIishcha  told  him  what  he  should  do.  And  Nod 
listened,  shivering,  in  part  for  the  cold,  and  in  part  for 
dread  of  what  she  was  sapng.  "There  be  three  things, 
Nizza-neela,"  she  said,  when  she  had  told  him  all  her 
stratagem — "there  be  three  things  even  a  Mulla-mulgar 
must  have  who  fights  with  Immanala,  Queen  of  Shadows : 
he  must  have  Magic,  he  must  have  cunning,  and  he  must 
have  courage.  Oh,  little  Prince  of  Tishnar,  should  I  have 
physicked  j'ou  and  saved  you  from  the  sooty  spits  of  the 
Minimuls  if  you  had  been  neither  wise  nor  brave?" 

And  Nod  promised  by  his  Wonderstone  to  do  all  that 
she  had  bidden  him.     And  she  crept  soundlessly  back  into 

—124— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

the  gloom  of  the  forest.  Nod  himself  quickly  hobbled 
home,  took  up  his  sliding-shoes  again,  and  returned  to  the 
little  hut  and  the  Oomgar's  red  fire. 

Battle  sat  there,  stooping  in  the  light  of  the  rising  moon 
and  the  ruddy  glow  over  his  little  book.  But  he  held  it 
for  memory's  sake  rather  than  to  read  in  it.  His  head  was 
jerking  in  sleep  when  Nod  sat  himself  down  by  the  fire, 
and  the  little  Mulgar  could  think  quietly  of  all  that  the 
old  hare  had  told  him.  He  half  shut  his  eyes,  watching  his 
slow,  curious  Mulgar  thoughts  creep  in  and  out.  And 
while  he  sat  there,  lonely  and  wretched,  struggling  be- 
tween love  for  his  brothers  and  for  the  Oomgar,  he  heard 
a  small  clear  voice  within  him  speaking  that  said:  "Cour- 
age, Prince  Ummanodda!  Tishnar  is  faithful  to  the 
faithful.  Who  is  this  Nameless  to  set  snares  against  her 
chosen?  Fear  not,  Nizza-neela;  all  will  be  well!"  Thus 
it  seemed  to  Nod  the  inward  voice  was  saying  to  him,  and 
he  took  comfort.  He  would  tell  the  poor  sailor,  perhaps, 
part  of  what  he  feared  and  knew,  and  with  Tishnar  to 
help  him  would  seek  out  this  Immanala  and  meet  her  face 
to  face. 

Night  rode  in  starry  darkness  above  the  great  black 
forest.  The  logs  burned  low.  Close  before  his  fire  sat 
Battle,  his  chin  on  his  breast,  his  yellow-haired  head  rolling 
from  side  to  side  in  his  sleep.  Thin  clear  flames,  blue 
and  sulphur,  floated  along  the  logs,  and  lit  up  his  fast- 
shut  eyes.  Nod  sat  with  his  little  chops  in  his  hairy  hands 
watching  the  sailor.  Sometimes  a  solitary  beast  roared,  or 
a  night-bird  squalled  out  of  the  gloom.  At  last  the  little 
book  fell  out  of  Battle's  sleep-loosened  fingers.  He 
started,  raised  his  head,  and  stared  into  the  darkness,  listen- 

—125— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

mg  to  howl  answering  to  howl,  shrill  cry  to  distant  cry. 
He  yawned,  showing  all  his  small  white  teeth. 

"Your  friends  are  uncommon  fidgety  to-night,  Nod 
Mulgar,"  he  said. 

Nod  got  up  and  threw  more  wood  on  the  glowing  fire. 
"Not  INIulla-mulgar's  friends.  Nod's  friends  not  hate 
Oonigar."     Up  sprang  the  flames,  hissing  and  crackling. 

The  sailor  grinned.  "Lor'  bless  ye,  my  son;  you  talks 
wonnerf ul  hoity-toity ;  but  in  my  country  they  would  clap 
ye  into  a  cage." 

"Cage?"  said  Nod. 

"Ay,  in  a  stinking  cage,  with  iron  bars,  for  the  rabble 
to  jeer  at.  What  would  the  monkeys  do  with  a  white  man, 
an  Oomgar,  if  they  cotched  'n?" 

"In  my  father  Seelem's  hut  over  there,"  said  Nod,  wav- 
ing his  long  hand  towards  the  Sulemnagar,  "Oomgar's 
bones  hanged  click,  click,  click  in  the  wind." 

Battle  stared.     "They  hates  us,  eh?     Picks  us  clean!" 

Nod  looked  at  him  gravely.  "iSIulla-mulgar — me — 
not  hate  Oomgar.  All  INIunza" — he  lifted  his  brows — 
"ay!  he  kill  and  eat,  eat,  eat,  same  as  leopard,  same  as 
Jaccatray." 

Battle  frowned.  "It's  tit  for  tat,  my  son.  I  kills 
Roses,  or  Roses  kills  me.  Not  a  Jack-All  that  howls  moon 
up  over  yonder  that  wouldn't  say  grace  for  a  picking. 
But  apes  and  monkeys,  no;  not  even  a  warty  old  drum- 
ming Pongo  that's  twice  as  ugly  as  his  own  shadow  in  the 
glass.  I  never  did  burn  powder  'gainst  a  monkey  yet. 
What's  more,"  said  Battle,  "who's  to  know  but  we  was 
all  what  you  calls  Oomgars  once?  Good  as.  You've 
just  come  down  in  the  world,  that's  all.     And  who's  to 

—126— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

blame  ye?  No  barbers,  no  ships,  no  larnin',  no  nothing. 
Breeches? — One  pair,  my  son,  to  half  a  million,  as  far  as 
Andy  ever  set  eyes  on.  Maybe  you  come  from  that 
wicked  King  Pharaoh  over  in  Egypt  there.  Maybe  you 
was  one  of  the  plagues,  and  scuttled  off  with  all  the  fleas." 
He  grinned  cheerfully.  Nod  watched  his  changing  face, 
but  what  he  said  now  he  could  not  understand. 

"There's  just  one  thing.  Master  Mulgar,"  went  on 
Battle  solemnly.  "Kill  or  not  kill,  hairy  as  hairy,  or  bald 
as  a  round-shot,  God  made  us  every  one.  And  speakin' 
comfortable-like,  'twixt  you  and  me,  just  as  my  old  mother 
taught  me  years  gone  by,  I  planks  me  down  on  my  knees 
like  any  babby  this  very  hour  gone  by,  while  you  was 
sliding  in  your  shoes,  and  said  me  prayers  out  loud.  I'm 
getting  mortal  sick  of  being  lonesome.  Not  that  I  blames 
you,  my  son.  You're  better  company  than  fifty  million 
parakeets,  and  seven-and-seventy  MuUagoes  of  blacka- 
moors." 

Nod  stared  gravely.  "Oomgar  talk;  Nod  unnerstand 
— no."     He  sorrowfully  shook  his  head. 

"My  case  all  over,"  said  Battle.  "Andy  unnerstand 
— no.  But  there,  we'll  off  to  England,  my  son,  soon  as 
ever  this  mortal  frost  breaks.  Years  and  years  have  I 
been  in  this  here  dismal  Munza.  Man-eaters  and  Ephel- 
antoes,  Portingals  and  blackamoors,  chased  and  harassed 
up  and  down,  and  never  a  spark  of  frost  seen,  unless  on 
the  Snowy  Mountains.  What  wouldn't  I  give  for  a  sight 
of  Plymouth  now!" 

He  rose  and  stretched  himself.  Facing  him,  across  the 
unstirring  darkness  of  the  forest  shone  palely  the  great 
new-risen  moon.     "  'Hi,  hi,  up  she  rises,'  "  said  Battle, 

—127— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

staring  over.  "  'But  what's  to  be  done  with  a  shipwrecked 
sailor?'  Nobody  knows,  but  who  can't  tell  us.  Now,  just 
one  stave.  Nod  JNIulgar,  afore  we  both  turns  in.  Give  us 
'Cherry-trees.'  No,  maybe  I'll  pipe  ye  one  of  Andy's 
own,  and  you  shall  jine  in,  same  as  t'other."  Nod  climbed 
up  and  stood  on  his  log,  his  hands  clasped  behind  his  neck, 
and  stamped  softly  with  his  feet  in  time,  while  Battle,  after 
tuning  up  his  great  gourd — or  Juddie,  as  he  called  it — 
plucked  the  sounding  strings.  And  soon  the  Oomgar's 
voice  burst  out  so  loud  and  fearless  that  the  prowling 
panthers  paused  with  cowering  head  and  twitching  ears, 
and  the  Jaccatrays  out  of  the  shadows  lifted  their  cringing 
eyes  up  to  the  moon,  dolefully  listening.  And  when 
the  last  two  lines  of  each  verse  had  been  sung.  Battle 
plucked  more  loudly  at  his  strings,  and  Nod  joined  in. 

"Once  and  there  was  a  3'oung  sailor,  yeo  ho ! 
And  he  sailed  out  over  the   say 
For  the  isles  where  pink  coral  and  palm-branches  blow, 
And  the  fire-flies  turn  night  into  day, 

Yeo  ho ! 
And  the  fire-flies  turn  night  into  day. 

"But  the  Dolphin  went  down  in  a  tempest,  yeo  ho! 
And  with  three  forsook  sailors  ashore, 
The  Portingals  took  him  where  sugar-canes  grow, 
Their  slave  for  to  be  evermore, 

Yeo  ho ! 
Their  slave  for  to  be  evermore. 

"With  his  musket  for  mother  and  brother,  yeo  ho! 
He  warred  wi'  the   Cannibals   drear. 
In   forests   where   panthers   pad   soft   to   and   fro, 

—128— 


NOD     DANCED     THE     JAQQUAS'     WAR  -  DANCE,      .     . 
STOOPING  AND   CROOKED,      -WRIGOLE   AND   STAMP 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

And   the  Pongo   shakes   noonday  with   fear 

Yeo  ho ! 
And   the  Pongo   shakes   noonday  with   fear 

"Now  lean  with  long  travail,  all  wasted  with  woe, 
With  a  monkey  for  messmate  and  friend, 
He  sits  'neath  the  Cross  in  the  cankering  snow, 
And  waits  for  his  sorrowful  end, 

Yeo  ho ! 
And  waits  for  his  sorrowful  end." 

This  song  sung,  Nod  danced  the  Jaqquas'  war-dance, 
which  Battle  had  taught  him,  stooping  and  crooked,  "wrig- 
gle and  stamp,"  gnashing  his  teeth,  waving  a  club — which 
waving,  indeed,  always  waved  Nod  sprawling  off  his  log 
before  long,  and  set  Battle  rolling  with  laughter,  and  ended 
the  dance. 

That  dance  danced,  they  sat  quiet  awhile,  Battle  softly, 
very  softly,  thrumming  on  his  Juddie,  gazing  into  the 
fire.  And  suddenly  in  the  silence,  out  of  the  vast  black- 
ness of  the  moonlit  leagues  beneath  them,  broke  a  strange 
and  dismal  cry.  It  rose  lone  and  hollow,  and  yet  it 
seemed  with  its  sound  to  fill  the  whole  enormous  bowl  of 
star-bedazzling  sky  above  the  forest.  Then  down  it 
lingeringly  fell,  note  by  note,  wailing  and  menacing,  an 
answering  song  of  hatred  against  the  solitary  Oomgar  and 
his  gun. 

Battle  caught  up  his  musket  and  stood  erect,  facing  with 
scowling  eyes  the  vast  silence  of  the  forest.  And  in- 
stantly from  far  and  near,  solitary  and  in  hunting-bands, 
deep  and  shrill,  every  beast  that  slinks  and  lies  in  wait 
beneath  the  moon  broke  into  its  hunting-cry. 

—129—        ^ 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Battle  stood  listening  with  a  savage  grin  on  his  face, 
until  the  last  echo  had  died  away.  Then,  throwing  down 
his  musket,  he  hitched  up  the  cloth  bandage  on  his  shoul- 
der, lifted  his  great  Juddie,  and  strode  out  from  the  fire 
a  few  paces  till  he  stood  black  and  solitary  in  the  moon- 
light of  the  snow.  And  he  plucked  the  girding  strings 
and  roared  out  with  all  his  lungs  his  mocking  answer: 

"Voice  without  a  body, 
Panther  of  black  Roses, 
Jack-Alls  fat  on  icicles, 
Ephelanto,  Aligatha, 
Zevvera  and  Jaccatray, 
Unicorn  and  River-horse; 

Ho,  ho,  ho ! 
Here's  Andy  Battle, 
Waiting  for  the  enemy ! 

"Imbe  Calandola, 
M'keesso  and  Quesanga, 
Dondo  and  Sharammba, 
Pongo  and  Enjekko, 
Millions  of  monkeys. 
Rattlesnake  and  scorpion, 
Swamp  and  death  and  shadow; 

Ho,  ho,  ho ! 
Come  on,  all  of  ye. 
Here's  Andy  Battle, 
Waiting  and — alone!" 

He  swept  his  great  scarred  thumb  over  the  strings  with 
a  resounding  flourish,  and  burst  into  a  laugh.  Then  he 
turned  his  back  on  the  unanswering  forest,  and  sat  down 
by  the  fire  again,  wiping  the  sweat  from  his  face  and 

—130— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

combing  out  his  tangled  beard.  Nod  drew  a  little  away 
from  the  fire,  and  sat  softly  watching  him.  The  Oomgar 
was  muttering  with  wide-open  lids.  He  snatched  up  a 
lump  of  the  cold  Mulgar-bread  that  Nod  had  cooked  for 
his  supper,  and  gnawed  it  with  twitching  fingers.  He 
glanced  over  it  with  bright  blue  glittering  eyes  at  his  little 
hunched-up  friend. 

"Don't  you  have  no  shadow  of  fear,  my  son.  If  they 
come,  come  they  must.  Just  you  skip  off  into  the  forest 
with  your  courage  where  your  tail  ought  to  be.  I  care 
not  a  pinch  of  powder  for  them  or'nerj'^  beasts.  It's  that 
there  Shadow  legs  that  beats  me  with  his  mewling.  I've 
heard  it  down  on  the  coast;  I've  heard  it  with  the  Por- 
tingals;  I've  heard  it  with  the  Andalambandoes ;  I've 
heard  it  wake  and  sleep.  But  witch-beast  or  no  witch- 
beast,  and  every  skulk-by-night  that  creeps  on  claws,  I'll 
win  home  yet !"  He  kicked  a  few  loose  smoking  logs  into 
the  blaze.  "More  fire,  my  son!  I  like  a  light  to  fight 
by  when  fighting  comes." 

The  darkness  was  clear  as  glass.  The  sky  seemed 
shaken  as  if  with  fire-flies.  Not  a  sound  stirred  now,  not 
even  a  hovering  wing.  Nod  heaped  high  the  huge  fire, 
and  followed  the  Oomgar  into  his  hut. 

But  not  to  sleep.  He  crouched  on  his  snug  dry  bed  of 
moss,  and  waited  patiently  till  Battle's  snores  rose  slow 
and  mournful  beneath  the  snow-piled  roof.  Then  very 
quickly  he  put  on  his  sheep's-coat  over  his  Juzanda  jacket 
and  breeches.  He  crawled  out,  and  lifted  down  with  both 
hands  the  hea\y  bar  of  the  door,  and  stole  out  into  the 
moonlight  again.  He  thrust  his  puckered  hand  under  his 
jacket,  and  touched  his  skinny  breast-bone,  beneath  which, 

—131— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

ever  since  the  little  Horse  of  Tishnar  had  toppled  him 
into  the  snow,  he  had  felt  the  slumbering  Wonderstone 
strangely  burning.  And,  as  if  even  Oomgar  magic,  too, 
might  help  him,  he  hobbled  back  into  the  hut  and  put 
Battle's  little  dog's-eared  book  into  his  pocket.  Then, 
before  his  heart  could  fail  him,  he  ran  out  as  fast  as  his 
fours  could  carry  him  to  where  he  had  heard  rise  up  in  the 
night  the  Hunting-Song  of  Immanala. 

On  the  extreme  verge  of  the  steep,  opposite  Battle's 
hut,  stood  a  solitary  flat-headed  rock  beside  the  frozen 
stream.  Here  the  water  burst  in  a  blaze  of  moonlight 
into  a  cascade  of  icicles  and  foam.  Nod  stood  there  in 
the  rock's  shadow  awhile,  looking  down  into  the  forest. 
And  as  if  a  little  cloud  had  come  upon  the  glittering  moon, 
he  felt,  as  it  were,  a  sudden  darkness  above  his  head,  and 
a  cold  terror  crept  over  his  skin. 

Then  he  stepped,  trembling,  out  of  the  shadow  of  the 
rock  into  the  moonlight,  and  gazed  up  into  the  shadowy 
countenance  of  Immanala.  She  lay  gaunt  and  spare,  her 
long  neck  touching  the  snow,  her  eye-balls  beneath  their 
wide  lids  fixed  glassily  on  Nod.  He  gazed  and  gazed, 
until  it  seemed  he  was  sinking  down,  down  into  those  wide 
unstirring  ej^es. 

His  heart  seemed  to  rise  up  into  his  mouth.  He 
coughed,  and  something  hard  and  round  and  tingling  slid 
on  to  his  tongue.  He  put  up  his  hand  to  his  thick  lips, 
and,  like  courage  that  steals  into  the  mind  when  all  else 
is  vain,  fell  into  his  hand,  milk-pale  and  magical,  the  long- 
hidden  Wonder-stone. 

"I  couch  here,  Ummanodda,"  said  the  Nameless,  with- 
out stirring,  "night  after  night,  hungry  and  thirsty,  wait- 

—132— 


HE    FELT   A   SUDDl'.X    DARKNESS   ABOVE    HIS    HI':A1), 
AND     A     COLD     TERROR     CREPT     OVER      HIS      SKIN. 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

ing  for  the  Oomgar's  head.     Why  does  the  MuUa-mulgar 
keep  me  waiting  so  long  for  my  supper?" 

"Because,  O  Queen  of  Shadows,"  said  Nod  as  calmly 
as  he  could — "because  the  head  of  the  Oomgar  refuses  to 
come  without  his  legs — and  his  gun." 

"Nay,"  said  she,  "there  must  be  many  a  shallow  gourd 
in  the  Oomgar's  hut.  Cut  off  the  head,  and  bring  it 
hither  yourself  in  that." 

"Ohe,"  said  Nod,  "the  Nameless  has  sharp  teeth,  if 
all  that  is  said  be  true.  She  shall  cut,  and  I  will  carry. 
Princes  of  Tishnar  have  no  tongue  for  blood." 

Immanala  crouched  low,  with  jutting  head.  "Who  is 
this  Prince  of  Tishnar  that,  having  no  tongue  for  blood, 
roasts  meat  with  fire  for  an  Oomgar,  the  enemy  of  us  all?" 

"I,  Nameless,  am  Nod,"  said  he  softly.  "But  meat 
dead  is  dead  meat.  What  against  me  is  it  if  this  blind 
Oomgar  hungers  for  scorched  bones?  It  is  a  riddle,  Im- 
manala. Come  with  me  now,  then;  let  us  palaver  with 
him  together." 

"Yea,  together!"  snarled  the  Nameless — "I  to  ride  and 
thou  to  carry."     She  gathered  herself  as  if  to  spring. 

Nod  whispered,  "O  Tishnar!"  and  he  stood  stock-still. 

Immanala  drew  back  her  flat  grey  head  from  the  snow, 
and  shook  it,  softly  glancing  at  the  moon. 

"Why,  O  Prince  of  Tishnar,  should  we  be  at  strife  one 
with  another?  We  hate  the  Oomgar.  And  if  it  were 
not  for  this  magic  that  is  yours,  my  servants  would  have 
slain  him  long  since  in  his  hunting." 

"Ah,  me!"  said  Nod,  sighing  it  in  Mulgar-royal,  as  if 
to  himself  alone,  "I  myself  love  this  Oomgar  none  too 
much.     Did  he  not  catch  me  walking  lonely  in  Munza  in 

—133— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

a  wild  pig  snare?  If  he  is  to  die,  let  him  die,  says  Nod. 
But  1  like  not  your  fashion  of  hunting,  Beast  of  Shadows, 
skulking  and  creeping  and  scaring  off  his  wandering  sup- 
per-meat. Bring  your  hunting-dogs  into  the  open  snow 
here  out  of  their  dens  and  lairs  and  shadows.  Then  shall 
the  Oomgar  fight  like  an  Oomgar,  one  against  a  hundred, 
and  Nod  can  go  free!" 

Immanala  rose  bristling  against  the  clearness  of  the 
moon. 

"Tell  me,  Prince  of  Tishnar,  what  is  this  story  you 
seem  to  be  whispering  about  my  hunting-dogs?" 

And  Nod,  with  his  Wonderstone  clipped  tight  in  his  hot 
palm,  bethought  him  of  all  Mishcha's  counsel,  and  prom- 
ised Immanala  he  would  come  down  the  next  night  fol- 
lowing. And  if  she  would  call  her  packs  into  the  ravine, 
he  would  lead  them,  and  open  the  door  of  the  hut  and  lure 
out  the  Oomgar.  "Then  you,  O  fearless  Queen  of  Shad- 
ows, shall  watch  the  hunt  in  peace,"  he  said.  "One  for- 
saken Oomgar  without  his  gun  against  nine-and-ninety 
Jack- Alls  and  Jaccatrays,  and  perhaps  a  Roses  or  two, 
famished  and  parched  with  cold.  Ay,  but  before  I  whistle 
them  up,"  he  muttered,  as  if  to  himself,  "I  must  steal  the 
Oomgar's  M'Keesso's  coat,  which  is  drenched  through  with 
magic." 

Immanala  peered  gloatingly  from  her  rock.  "The  lit- 
tle Mulla-mulgar  has  a  cunning  face,"  she  said,  "and  a 
heart  of  many  devices.  I  have  heard  of  his  comings  and 
goings  in  Munza-mulgar.  But  if  he  deal  falsely  with  me, 
though  Tishnar  came  herself  in  all  her  brightness,  I  would 
wait  and  wait.  Not  an  Utt  nor  a  Nikka-nikka  but  should 
be  his  enemy,  and  as  for  those  magicless  Mulla-mulgars  his 

—134— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

brothers,  who  even  now  squat  sullen  and  hungry  in  their 
leafy  houses,  they  shall  lie  cold  as  stones  before  the  morn- 
ing light." 

"Why,"  said  Nod  softly,  "he  must  be  frightened  who 
begins  to  threaten.  I  have  no  fear  of  you,  O  Nameless, 
who  are  but  a  creeping  candle-fly  at  twilight  to  the  blaze 
of  Tishnar's  moon.  Come  hither  to-morrow  with  your 
half -starved  hunting-dogs,  and  I'll  show  you  good  hunt- 
ing, will  I." 

Without  another  word,  with  every  hair  on  end,  he  ran 
swiftly  back  to  the  hut  by  the  way  he  had  come.  But 
even  now  his  night's  doings  were  not  ended,  for  in  a  while, 
by  which  time  the  Immanala  should  have  returned  from 
her  watching-rock  into  the  shadows  of  the  forest,  he  ran 
out  again,  and,  crouching  beneath  the  old  Exxswixxia- 
bush  under  the  Sulemnagar,  he  called  softly:  "Mishcha, 
old  hare!     Mishcha!" 

When  he  had  called  her  many  times,  she  came  slowly 
and  warily  limping  across  the  chequered  snow.  And  Nod 
told  her  of  all  he  had  done  that  night,  and  of  how  he  had 
met  and  abashed  the  Nameless  face  to  face.  The  old 
hare  watched  dimly  his  flashing  eyes  and  the  vainglory  of 
the  face  of  the  young  Mulgar  Prince  boasting  in  his  finery, 
and  she  grimly  smiled. 

"Chakka,  chakka,"  says  she;  "tchackka,  tchackka:  you 
bleed  before  you're  wounded,  Mulgar-royal." 

But  Nod  in  the  heat  of  his  glory  cared  nothing  for  what 
his  old  friend  said  to  quench  it.  And  he  told  her  to  bring 
his  brothers  to  the  great  Ukka-tree  that  stood  over  against 
the  shadow,  where  they  talked,  there  to  wait  and  watch  till 
morning.     "By  that  time,"  he  said,  "I  shall  have  finished 

—135— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

my  supper  with  the  Nameless,  and  the  Oomgar  will  know 
me  for  the  Prince  I  am." 

Mishcha  wagged  slowly  her  old  head.  She  hated  the 
Oomgar,  but  she  hated  the  Beast  of  Shadows  more,  and 
off  she  hopped  again,  stiff  and  cold,  to  seek  out  Thimble 
and  Thumb. 


—136— 


CHAPTER  XI 

Battle  went  out  hunting  as  usual  the  next  morning. 
Tracks  of  leopards  were  everywhere  in  the  night's  thin 
snow.  He  ventured  not  far  into  the  forest,  and  returned 
with  only  a  poor  old  withered  bird,  too  cold  and  weak  to 
fly  off  from  his  gun. 

"It's  this  way,  my  son,"  he  said;  "I've  heard  the  thing 
before.  That  howl  brings  half  the  forest  against  me,  like 
blue-flies  to  meat.  So  all  I  does  is  to  keep  a  weather-eye 
open,  and  musket  a-cock.  One  of  these  days,  Mulgar  mio. 
Shadow  or  no  Shadow,  she  shall  have  a  brace  of  bullets  in 
her  vitals,  as  sure  as  my  name's  Battle."  But  in  spite  of 
his  fine  words,  he  crouched  gloomy  and  distracted  beside 
his  fire  all  day,  casting  ever  and  anon  a  stealthy  glance  over 
his  shoulder,  and  lifting  his  eye  slowly  above  the  flames, 
to  survey  the  clustering  fringes  of  the  forest  around  his 
hut. 

But  Nod  told  Battle  nothing  of  his  talk  with  the  old 

—137— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

hare.  He  did  not  as  much  as  tell  him  even  that  his  broth- 
ers were  near,  or  that  he  had  seen  Immanala.  He  cleaned 
his  master's  gun.  He  busied  himself  over  his  Nano-cakes 
and  nuts,  and  prevailed  on  Battle  to  eat  by  making  him 
laugh  at  his  antics.  The  more  he  thought  of  leaving  him, 
and  of  the  danger  of  the  coming  night,  and  the  stony 
cruelty  of  Immanala's  gloating  eyes,  his  heart  fell  deeper 
and  deeper  into  trouble  and  dismay.  But  each  time  when 
it  seemed  he  must  run  away  and  hide  himself  he  gulped 
his  terror  down,  and  touched  his  Wonderstone. 

He  himself  lugged  out  Battle's  Juddie  when  evening 
fell.  But  Battle  had  no  mind  for  merriment  and  braveries 
that  night.  He  picked  out  idly  on  the  strings  old  mourn- 
ful chanties  that  sailors  sometimes  sing;  and  he  taught 
Nod  a  new  song  to  bray  out  in  his  queer  voice,  "She's 
me  forgot": 

"  'Me  who  have  sailed 

Leagues  across 
Foam  haunted 

By  the  albatross. 
Time  now  hath  made 

Remembered  not: 
Ay,  my  dear  love 

Hath  me  forgot. 

*'  *0h,  how  should  she. 

Whose  beauty  shone, 
Keep  true  to  one 

Such  long  years  gone?  ♦ 

Grief  cloud  those  eyes ! — 

I  ask  it  not: 
Content  am  I — 
She's  me  forgot. 
—138— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"  'Here  where  the  evening 

Ooboe  wails, 
Bemocking 

England's  nightingales, 
Bravely,  O  sailor. 

Take  thy  lot; 
Nor  grieve  too  much. 

She's  thee  forgot!'" 

But  even  between  his  slow-drawled,  shakety  notes  of 
deep  and  shrill  Nod  listened  for  the  least  stir  in  the  forest, 
and  seemed  to  hear  the  low,  hungry  calls  and  scamperings 
of  Immanala's  hunting-pack,  which  she  had  summoned 
from  far  and  near  to  the  tangled  ravine  beneath  the 
rock. 

He  got  Battle  early  to  bed  by  telling  him  he  would 
dress  his  wounded  shoulder,  which  was  angry  and  in- 
flamed, with  a  poultice  of  leaves  such  as  his  mother,  Mutta- 
matutta,  had  taught  him  to  make.  "Now,"  says  he,  "it  be 
broad  full-moontime,  master,  and  all  Munza-mulgar  will 
be  gone  hunting.  But  wake  not.  Nod,  Prince  of  Tish- 
nar,  will  watch;"  and  even  as  he  said  it  came  remembrance 
of  the  Pigs  to  mind. 

Battle  laughed,  thinking  what  wondrous  good  sense 
these  two-legged  monkeys  seemed  to  have,  concerning 
which  King  Angeca  had  yet  himself  often  assured  him 
that  it  is  all  nothing  but  a  show  and  pretence,  since  man 
alone  has  wisdom  and  knowledge,  and  little  remains  over 
for  the  beasts  to  share. 

The  warmth  and  sleepiness  of  his  big  poultice  soon  set 
him  snoring.  And  in  a  blaze  of  moonlight  Nod  warily 
opened  the  door,  and  stood  in  the  squat  black  shadow  of 

— 139— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

the  hut,  looking  out  over  the  forest.  He  had  bound  him- 
self up  tight.  He  had  wound  up  his  Wonderstone  in  a 
piece  of  lead  that  he  had  found  in  the  hut  to  keep  it  from 
hopping  in  his  pocket,  and  had  stuck  the  sailor's  sharp 
sheath-knife  down  the  leg  of  his  breeches. 

Then,  like  but  an  Utt  or  a  gnome  in  that  great  waste 
of  whiteness,  he  sallied  out  to  destroy  the  Nameless.  He 
came  to  the  rock,  but  no  shadow  couched  there  now  in  the 
sheen.  He  crept  on  all  fours,  and  between  two  great 
frost-lit  boulders  peeped  into  the  ravine.  There,  chang- 
ing and  stirring,  shone  the  numberless  small  green  lanterns 
of  the  eyes  of  Immanala's  hunting-pack.  He  heard  their 
low  whinings  and  the  soft  crunch  of  their  clawed  feet  in 
the  snow.     Else  all  was  still. 

And  Nod  called  in  a  low  voice:  "Why  do  you  hide 
from  me,  Immanala,  Queen  of  Shadows?" 

He  waited,  but  no  answer  came.  "Venture  out,  mis- 
tress," cried  Nod  louder,  "and  we  will  be  off  together 
to  the  Oomgar's  hut.  You  shall  sit  on  the  roof  and  watch 
the  hunting-dogs  at  their  supper." 

At  that,  up  by  a  narrow  path  from  the  ravine  stole  Im- 
manala, and  all  the  Jack- Alls  and  Jaccatrays  fell  silent, 
staring  with  blazing  eyes  out  of  the  darkness. 

"Call  not  so  lustily,  Prince  of  Tishnar!"  she  said,  fawn- 
ing; "we  shall  awake  the  Oomgar." 

"Ohe,"  said  Nod  boldly;  "he  sleeps  deep.  He  fears 
neither  beast  nor  Meermut  in  all  this  frozen  Munza. 
Bid  your  greedy  slaves  stand  ready,  Immanala.  When 
I  whistle  them,  supper  is  up." 

Immanala  lifted  her  flat  grey  head,  and  seemed  to 
listen.     "I  hear  the  harps  of  Tishnar  in  the  forest.     The 

—140— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

leaves  of  the  branches  of  the  trees  of  my  master  N66- 
manossi  stir,  and  yet  there  moves  no  wind." 

She  fixed  her  colourless  eyes  on  Nod,  with  her  ears  on 
her  long,  smooth  forehead  pricked  forward.  "What  is  the 
cunning  Mulgar  thinking  beneath  all  he  says?  Like  fine 
sand  in  water,  I  hear  the  rustling  of  his  thoughts." 

Nod  took  a  long  breath  and  shut  his  eyes.  "I  was 
thinking,"  he  said,  "what  stupid  fellows  must  be  these  dogs 
of  yours,  seeing  that  each  and  every  one  keeps  whimper- 
ing, 'The  head — the  head  for  me!'  But  they  must  wait  in 
patience  yet  a  little  longer,  if  even  a  knucklebone  is  to  be 
a  share.  I  will  go  forward  and  choose  out  all  that  I  and 
the  Mulla-mulgars,  my  brothers,  want  of  the  Oomgar's 
house-treasures  before  the  Jaccatrays  tear  everything  to 
pieces." 

"Softly,  now,  softly,"  said  Immanala.  "You  think  very 
little  of  me,  Nizza-neela.  Do  you  dream  I  came  from  far 
to  protect  you  from  my  slaves,  Roses  and  Jaccatray,  and 
now  am  to  get  nothing  for  my  pains?  What  of  that  stiff 
coat  drenched  with  magic?  That  is  mine.  No,  no,  little 
greedy  Mulgar;  we  share  together,  or  I  have  all." 

"Well,  well,"  said  Nod,  as  if  unwilling,  "you  shall 
take  part,  mistress,  though  all  that's  there  is  truly  Tish- 
nar's.  Follow  quietly!  I  will  see  if  my  Zbaffle  be  still 
asleep." 

Immanala  crouched  snarling  in  the  moonlight,  and  Nod 
ran  swiftly  to  the  hut.  The  moon  streamed  in  on  the 
sailor's  upturned  face,  where,  lying  flat  on  his  back,  he 
snored  and  snored  and  snored.  Then  Nod  very  quietly 
took  down  from  its  wooden  hook  the  sailor's  great  skin 
coat,  his  belt  of  Ephelanto-hide,  his  huge  hair  hat,  all  such 

—141— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

as  in  his  wanderings  he  had  captured  from  black  Kings 
and  men  of  magic.  He  filled  the  pockets,  he  stuffed  them 
with  bullets  and  copper  rings  and  stones  and  lumps  of 
ice — everything  heavy  that  he  could  find.  At  the  rattling 
of  the  stones  Battle  rolled  over,  muttering  hoarsely  in  his 
sleep.  Nod  stopped  instantly  and  listened.  No  words  he 
understood.  Then  once  more  he  set  to  work,  and  soon  had 
dragged  the  huge  stiff  coat  and  hat  and  belt  one  by  one 
over  the  door-log  into  the  snow. 

"Hither,  come  hither!  Hasten,  mistress!"  he  called 
softly,  capering  round  about  them.  "Here's  a  sight  to 
cheer  your  royal  heart!  Here's  riches!  What  have  we 
here  but  the  magic  coat  which  the  Oomgar  stripped  from 
the  M'keeso  of  the  old  Lord  Shillambansa,  that  feeds  a 
hundred  peacocks  on  his  grave?" 

Very,  very  heedfully  Immanala  drew  near  on  her  belly 
in  the  snow.     Cat-like,  she  smelt  and  capered. 

"Have  no  fear.  Beast  of  Shadows,"  called  Nod  softly; 
"the  Oomgar  sleeps  like  moss  on  the  Tree  of  Everlasting." 

Then  all  her  vanity  and  greed  welled  up  in  the  Beast 
of  Shadows,  for  whosoever  her  dam  may  be,  and  all  her 
lineage  of  solitude  and  strangeness,  she  has  more  greed 
than  a  wolf,  more  vanity  than  a  vixen.  She  thrust  her 
long  lean  head  into  the  Cap. 

"Do  but  now  let  me  help  you,  mistress,"  said  Nod,  "as 
I  used  to  help  the  Oomgar.  Stand  upright,  and  I  will 
thrust  your  arms  into  the  sleeves.  We  must  hasten,  we 
must  be  quiet."  At  every  glance  her  greed  and  vanity 
increased.  Nod  heaved  and  tugged  till  his  thick  fur  lay 
dank  on  his  poll,  and  at  last  the  dreadful  Beast  was  draped 

—142— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

and  swathed  and  mantled  from  ears  to  tail  in  the 
Oomgar's  coat. 

"Now  for  the  Dondo's  belt  of  sorcery,"  said  Nod. 
"Sure,  none  will  dare  sneeze  in  Munza-mulgar  when  the 
sailorman  is  gone."  He  put  the  thick  belt  round  her  lean 
body,  though  his  head  swam  with  her  muskiness,  and  drew 
it  tight  into  the  buckle. 

"Gently,  gently,  little  brother!"  sighed  Immanala.  "It 
is  heavy,  and  I  scarce  can  breathe." 

"The  very  Oomgar  himself  used  often  to  snort,"  said 
Nod. 

"But  why  does  he  keep  so  many  stones  in  his  pocket?" 
pined  Immanala. 

"Why,  Queen  of  Wisdom!  What  if  the  wind  should 
blow,  and  all  his  magic  flit  away?  Ay,  ay,  ay!  stripped 
from  the  M'keeso  of  the  dead  Lord  Shillambansa  came 
this  coat  into  my  Messimut's  hands,  who  feeds  five  hun- 
dred peacocks  on  his  grave !  And  now  his  wondrous  Cap 
of  Hair!  Nine  Fulbies,  as  I  live,  were  flayed  to  skin 
that  cap  withal,"  said  Nod,  "and  seven  rogue  Ephelantoes 
gave  the  Oomgar  of  their  tails." 

"Ah  yes,  ah  yes!"  groaned  Immanala;  "but  what  are 
seventy  Ephelantoes  compared  with  Immanala,  Queen  of 
All?" 

"Now,"  said  Nod,  "I  will  weary  myself  no  more  with 
speeches.     Is  it  warm?" 

"I  am  in  a  furnace;  I  burn." 

"Is  it  too  loose?     Does  it  wrinkle?     Does  it  sag?" 

"Oh,  but  I  can  breathe  but  a  mouthful  at  a  time!" 

"Last  and  last  again,  then,"  said  Nod,  packing  into  the 

—143— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

pockets  one  or  two  of  the  stones  and  bullets  and  lumps 
of  ice  that  had  fallen  out,  "is  it  comfortable?" 

"O  my  friend,  my  scarce- wise  ^Nlulgar-royal,  when  did 
you  ever  hear  that  grand  clothes  were  comfortable?" 

"Wait  but  a  little  moment,  then,  while  I  go  in  to  fetch 
the  magic-glass,  that  will  show  you  your  face,  Immanala, 
handsome  and  lovesome." 

The  Beast  struggled  faintly  in  her  magic  coat.  "Have 
a  care — oh,  have  a  care,  Ummanodda !  The  gun,  the  gun  I 
The  Oomgar  might  wake.  Let  me  creep  swiftly  to  my 
stone,  and  bring  the  glass  to  me  there." 

"The  Oomgar  will  not  wake,"  said  Nod;  "he  sleeps  as 
deep  as  the  Ghost  of  the  Rose  upon  the  bosom  of  Tishnar." 

"But,  O  Mulgar,  think  again.  Strip  off  from  my  body 
this  grievous  belt,"  she  pleaded;  "you  will  keep  nothing 
for  yourself." 

"Have  no  fear,  friend,"  said  Nod  shakily;  "I  will  keep" 
— and  his  eyes  met  hers  in  the  shadow  of  the  hat,  stony 
and  merciless  and  ravenous — "I  will  keep,"  he  grunted, 
"my  Zbaffle." 

He  went  into  the  hut  and  seated  himself  on  a  little  stool. 
Then  very  carefully  he  took  the  Wonderstone  out  of  his 
pocket  and  unwrapped  it.  Its  pale  gleam  mingled  softly 
with  the  moonlight,  as  a  rainbow  mingles  with  foam. 
Wetting  his  left  thumb  with  spittle,  he  rubbed  it  softly, 
softly,  Samaweeza,  three  times  round.  And  distant  and 
clear  as  the  shining  of  a  star  a  voice  seemed  to  cry:  "The 
Spirit  of  Tishnar  answers.  Prince  Ummanodda  Nizza- 
neela;  what  dost  thou  require  of  me?" 

"Oh,  by  Tishnar,  only  this,"  said  Nod,  trembling:  "that 
the  nine-and-ninety  hunting-dogs  in  their  hunting  mis- 

—144— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

take  the  ravening  Beast  of  Shadows,  Immanala,  for  the 
sailorman,  Zbaffle,  my  master  and  friend." 

And  surely,  when  Nod  looked  out  from  the  doorway, 
it  seemed  that,  strange  and  terrible,  the  shape  muffled 
within  the  Oomgar's  coat  was  swollen  out,  stretched  lean 
and  tall,  that  even  lank  gold  hair  did  dangle  on  her  shoul- 
ders from  beneath  the  furry  cap.  It  seemed  he  heard  a 
far-away  crying — crying,  out  of  that  monstrous  bale,  as 
the  creature  within,  standing  hidden  from  the  moonlight, 
began  to  sway  and  stir  and  totter  over  the  snow.  And 
Nod,  choking  with  terror,  called  one  word  only — "Sulani!" 
Then,  with  all  his  force,  he  whistled  once,  twice,  thrice, 
clear  and  loud  and  long  and  shrill;  then  he  shut  fast  the 
door  and  barred  it,  and  went  and  crouched  beside  the 
Oomgar's  bed. 

Already  Battle  was  wide  awake.  "Ahoy!"  said  he,  and 
started  up  and  thrust  out  his  hand  for  his  gun. 

"Steady — oh,  steady,  Oomgar  Zbaffle!"  said  Nod.  "It 
is  dogs  of  the  Immanala  only,  that  soon  will  be  gone." 

Even  as  he  spoke  rose  out  of  the  distance  a  dreadful  bay- 
ing and  howling.  Battle  leapt  up  out  of  his  bed  to  the 
window-hole.  But  Nod  squatted  shivering,  his  face  hid- 
den in  his  hands. 

"Ghost  of  me!  What  is  it?"  said  Battle  to  himself. 
"What  beast  is  this  they're  after — M'keeso,  or  Man  of 
the  Woods?" 

It  reeled,  it  fell,  it  rose  up;  it  wheeled  slowly,  faintly 
weeping  and  whining,  and  then  stood  still,  with  arms 
lifted  high,  struggling  like  a  man  with  a  great  burden. 
But  over  the  crudded  snow,  like  a  cloud  across  the  moon, 
streamed  with  brindled  hair  on  end,  jaws  gaping  and 

—145— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

flaming  eyes,  the  hungry  pack  of  the  Shadow's  hunting- 
dogs.  "Oomgar,  Oomgar,  Oomgar,  Oomgar!"  they  yelled 
one  to  another.  "Immanala,  Immanala,  death,  death, 
death!"  And  presently,  while  Battle  in  amazement 
w\atched,  there  came  one  miserable  cry  of  fear  and  pain. 
The  tottering  shape  seemed  to  melt,  to  vanish. 

Then  Nod  scampered  and  opened  the  door. 

"What  say  you  now,  hunting-dogs?  Was  the  Oomgar 
tender  or  tough?" 

"Tough,  tough!"  they  yelled. 

"Go,  then,  and  tell  your  mistress.  Queen  of  Shadows, 
Immanala,  that  you  have  supped  with  the  Prince  of  Tish- 
nar,  and  are  satisfied." 

"Why  lurks  the  little  Mulgar  in  the  Oomgar's  hut?" 
yelped  a  lank  hoary  Jaccatray. 

"I  guard  her  treasures  for  the  Nameless,"  said  Nod ;  but 
he  had  hardly  said  the  word  when  he  heard  Battle  striding 
to  the  door. 

"It's  no  good  prattling  and  blabbing,  my  son,"  he 
was  saying.  "If  come  it  be,  it's  come.  Off,  now,  while 
your  skin's  whole,  and  let  me  give  the  rogues  a  taste  of 
powder." 

Two  or  three  of  the  hunting-dogs  yelped  aloud. 
"What,  my  brothers!"  said  Nod.  "Did  you  hear  the 
Oomgar's  Meermut  calling  for  his  gun?" 

A  few  of  the  meaner  dogs  scampered  off  a  few  paces 
at  this,  sniffing  and  cocking  their  ears. 

"Out  of  the  way,  Pongo,"  whispered  the  Englishman 
through  the  doorway,  and  the  next  moment  there  fell  a 
crash  that  nearly  toppled  Nod  into  the  snow,  and  Battle 
strode  out  of  the  hut  with  his  smoking  musket.     But  the 

—146— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

cowardly  Jack-Alls,  at  sound  of  his  gun  and  at  sight  of  the 
ghost  of  the  Oomgar  they  had  torn  to  pieces,  lifted  up 
their  voices  in  a  howl  of  terror,  and  in  an  instant  over  the 
snow  they  swept  off  at  a  gallop,  and  soon  were  lost  in  the 
moonless  silence  and  shadowiness  of  Munza. 

Nod  turned  towards  the  hut.  Battle  stood  in  his 
breeches,  his  gun  in  his  hand,  his  blue  eyes  wide  open  as 
if  in  fear. 


f>i\ 


•J£t 


^147— 


CHAPTER  XII 


"What's  these,  what's  these?"  he  muttered,  for  there,  on 
the  farther  bank  of  the  stream,  stood  in  the  twihght  of 
the  sinking  moon  two  strange,  soHtary  figures,  motion- 
less, staring.  Nod  ran  to  Battle,  and  laid  his  long  nar- 
row hand  on  the  glimmering  gun-barrel.  "Oh,  not  shoot, 
not  shoot!"  he  said,  "black  Oomgars — no;  Mulla-mulgars, 
too,  Nod's  friends.  Nod's  brothers!" 

"What's  he  jabbering  about?"  said  Battle,  with  eyes 
fixed  brightly  on  the  two  gaunt  shapes. 

"Nod's  brothers,  there,"  said  Nod— "Thumb,  Thimble, 
Thimble,  Thumb.  Nod  show  Oomgar.  Oh,  wait  softly!" 
He  ran  swiftly  over  the  snow  till  he  came  to  the  frozen 
bank  of  the  stream.  But  still  his  brothers  never  stirred, 
ragged  and  hollow-eyed  with  hunger  and  cold. 

"Come,"  said  Nod,  lifting  up  his  hands  in  salutation; 
"there  is  no  fear,  no  danger!  Here  is  Nod,  my  broth- 
ers." 

—148— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"What  voice  was  that  we  heard?"  said  Thumb,  trem- 
bling. "Can  the  mouth  of  the  Oomgar  speak  after  it  is 
shut  in  death?" 

"The  Oomgar  is  not  dead,  Thumb,  my  brother;  the 
hunting-packs  killed  only  that  Beast  of  Shadows,  Im- 
manala,  who  hoped  to  kill  us  all,  and  the  Oomgar,  too. 
Come  over,  my  brothers!  Every  day,  every  night.  Nod 
has  talked  in  his  quiet  with  you." 

"We  do  not  understand  the  little  Oomgar,"  said  Thim- 
ble angrily.  "Who  are  you,  the  youngest  of  us  all,  to 
lie  and  make  cunning  against  the  people  of  the  forest? 
Let  your  master,  the  blood-spilling  Oomgar,  shoot  us,  too. 
What  are  we  in  such  a  heap  of  bones?  We  have  no  fear 
of  him.  On  all  fours,  back,  parakeet;  tell  him  where  the 
Mulgars'  hearts  lie  hid.  Maybe  he'll  fling  his  Nizza-neela 
a  bone." 

"O  Thimble,  MuUa-mulgar,  why  do  you  seek  out  all 
the  black  words  for  me?  Haven't  I  done  all  for  the  best? 
Did  I  play  false  with  you  when  I  saved  you  from  the 
spits  of  the  Minimuls?  The  little  Horse  of  Tishnar  smelt 
out  my  wounded  shoulder.  And  the  Oomgar's  strangling 
trap  caught  me.  But  he  did  not  kill  me.  He  took  me, 
and  was  kind  to  me,  fed  me  and  shared  his  fire  with  me, 
and  we  were  'messimuts.'  Yet  all  day,  all  night,  moon 
and  no-moon,  I  have  talked  in  myself  with  you,  and  run 
looking  for  you  in  my  dreams,  while  I  slept  in  the  hairless 
Oomgar's  hut.  The  Nameless  is  gone  for  a  little  while. 
The  Oomgar  is  wise  with  his  hands  and  in  little  things. 
Now  I  may  go.  He  kills  only  for  meat,  Mulla-mulgars. 
He  will  do  no  harm  to  Ummanodda's  brothers.  Come 
over  with  me!" 

—149— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Thumb  and  Thimble,  with  toes  a  little  tm*ned  in,  and 
heads  bent  forward,  stood  listening  in  the  snow. 

"Why,  then,"  said  Thumb,  muttering,  "if  he  kills  only 
for  food,  and  relishes  not  his  own  flavour  in  the  pot,  let 
him  hobble  out  here  to  us  now  and  greet  us,  like  with  like 
— Oomgar-mulgar  with  INIulla-mulgar — and  leave  his  spit- 
fire and  his  magic  behind  him.  But  into  his  hut,  nor 
stumbling  among  his  Munza  bones,  we  will  not  go.  And 
if  he  will  not  come,  brother  to  brother,  then  it  is  'Gar  JNIul- 
gar  dusangee'  between  us  three,  O  youngest  son  of  Seelem. 
Go  back  to  your  cooking-pots.  I  and  Thimble  will 
journey  on  alone.  All  day  would  the  Harp-strings  be 
twangling  over  Mulgars  smelling  of  blood." 

So  Nod,  cold  with  misery,  went  back  to  Battle,  who  sat 
yawning,  gun  on  knee,  beside  his  fire. 

"Oomgar!"  he  said,  leaning  a  little  on  one  small  hand, 
and  standing  a  few  paces  distant  from  the  sailor,  "my 
brothers,  the  jNIulla-mulgars,  sons  of  Seelem,  brother  of 
Assasimmon,  Prince  of  the  Valleys  of  Tishnar,  are  here. 
They  say  Nod  is  not  true,  speaks  lies,  eater-of-flesh,  no 
child  of  Tishnar."  He  stared  forlornly  into  Battle's  face. 
"Tired  of  his  living  is  Nod  now.  Shoot  straight  with 
Oomgar  Zbaffle's  gun.     Nod  will  be  still." 

The  Englishman  crinkled  up  his  eyelids,  opened  his 
mouth,  and  burst  out  laughing. 

"To  tell  ye  sober  truth,  my  son,"  he  said,  "bullets  and 
powder  Battle  haven't  much  left  to  waste.  And  what's 
lark-pie  to  a  hungry  sailor!  As  for  them  himched-up 
hobbagoblins  over  yonder,  don't  'ee  heed  what  envj^  has  to 
say.  Battle  is  hands  down  on  your  side,  my  son,  and 
let  'em  meddle  if  they  dare !     But  mercy  on  us,"  he  added 

—150— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

under  his  breath,  "what  wouldn't  my  old  mother  have  said 
to  hear  these  Pongoes  chatter?  'Shoot  straight!'  says  he. 
'Tired  of  his  living!'  says  he.  Button  up  your  sheep's- 
jacket,  my  son.  We'll  home  to  England  yet.  And, 
what's  more" — ^he  waved  his  hand  towards  the  lonely  fig- 
ures still  standing  motionless  in  the  silvery  dusk — "Andy 
Battle's  best  respects  to  the  hairy  gentlemen,  and  there's 
a  warm  welcome  and  fresh-picked  bones  for  breakfast. 
But  the  night's  creeping  cold,  and  bed's  bed,  old  friend, 
and  Andy's  eyes  was  never  made  for  moth-hunting.  So 
here  goes."  He  went  in  with  his  gun,  and  Nod  heard  him 
shut  and  bar  the  door. 

Nod  listened  awhile,  with  eyes  fixed  sorrowfully  on 
the  fast-shut  door;  then,  having  heaped  more  logs  on  to 
the  fire,  he  went  slowly  back  to  his  brothers. 

Now  that  the  moon  was  down,  and  night  at  its  darkest, 
the  frost  hardened.  And  Thumb  and  Thimble,  when  they 
were  sure  the  Oomgar  was  asleep  in  his  hut,  were  glad 
enough  to  hobble  across  the  ice  and  to  sit  and  warm  them- 
selves before  the  fire.  Their  jackets  hung  in  tatters. 
Thumb's  left  second  toe  was  frost-bitten,  and  Thimble's 
eyes  were  so  sore  from  the  glaring  whiteness  of  the  snow 
he  could  only  dimly  see.  Moreover,  they  were  weary  of 
living  and  sleeping  in  their  tree-houses  among  the  scat- 
ter-brained Forest-mulgars,  and  though  at  first  they  sat 
shaky  and  sniffing,  and  started  if  but  a  dry  leaf  snapped 
in  the  fire,  they  listened  in  silence  to  Nod's  long  story  of 
his  doings,  and  began  to  see  at  last  that  what  he  had 
done  by  Mishcha's  counsel  had  been  for  the  best,  and  not 
for  his  own  sake  only. 

"But  we  cannot  stay  here,  Ummanodda,"  said  Thumb. 

—151— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"We  could  not  rub  noses  with  the  Oomgar.  His  voice, 
his  smell!  He  is  not  of  our  kind,  little  brother.  And 
now  that  all  the  peoples  of  Munza-mulgar  are  our  enemies, 
we  must  press  on,  with  no  more  idling  and  fine  eating  and 
sitting  shanks  to  fire,  or  we  shall  never  reach  the  Valleys 
alive." 

"I  am  ready,  Thumb,  my  brother,"  Nod  answered. 
"The  Oomgar  has  been  kind  to  me,  his  own  kind's  kind. 
It  was  my  Tishnar's  Wonderstone  that  saved  him  from  the 
teeth  of  the  Nine-and-ninety,  and  from  Immanala's  magic, 
though  why  should  I  tell  it  is  so?  Now  they  will  think 
it  is  his  skin-bonneted  Meermut  that  stalks  to  and  fro 
with  the  ghost-gun  of  a  ghost.  They  will  forsake  this 
place,  every  one — claw  and  talon,  ujiright  and  fours,  every 
one.  How  long  shall  a  flesh-eater,  hungry  and  glutton- 
ous, live  on  dried  berries  and  nuts?  Me  gone;  unless  the 
frost  flies  soon,  or  a  great  Bobberie,  as  he  does  say,  comes 
up  from  that  strange  water,  the  Sea,  over  yonder,  the 
Oomgar  will  die.  O  brothers,  just  as  that  Oomgar,  the 
Portingal,  died  whose  bones  dangled  over  us  when  we  stood 
by  Mutta's  knee  and  listened  to  them  clicking.  Do  but 
let  me  stay  to  say  good-bye,  and  we  will  go  together  at 
morning!" 

So,  when  day  began  to  break.  Thumb  and  Thimble 
hastened  away  and  hid  themselves  in  the  Ukka-trees  till 
Nod  should  come  out  to  them.  Nod  busied  himself,  and 
baked  his  last  feast  with  his  master.  He  broiled  him  some 
bones — they  were  little  else — of  the  Jack- All  the  sailor  had 
shot  in  the  moonlight.  And  when  Battle — strange  and 
solitary  as  he  seemed  to  Nod  now,  after  talking  with  and 
looking  on  his  brothers — when  Battle  opened  the  door  and 

—152— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

came  out,  Nod  told  him  as  best  he  could,  in  the  few  words 
of  his  English,  of  Immanala  and  her  hunting-dogs,  and 
of  his  brothers.  And  he  told  him  that  he  must  leave  him 
now,  and  go  on  his  travels  again.  Battle  listened,  scratch- 
ing his  head,  and  with  a  patient,  perplexed  grin  on  his 
face,  but  he  could  understand  only  very  little  of  what  Nod 
meant.  For  even  a  Mulla-mulgar,  though  he  can  repeat 
like  a  child,  or  like  a  parrot,  by  rote,  has  small  brains  for 
really  learning  another  language,  so  that  it  may  be  a  tell- 
ing picture  of  his  thoughts.  Indeed,  Battle  thought  that 
poor  Nod  had  fallen  a  little  crazy  with  the  cold.  He 
fondled  him  and  scratched  his  head — this  Prince  of  Tish- 
nar — as  if  he  were  at  his  hearth  at  home,  and  Nod  his  coun- 
try cat.  But  at  least  he  knew  that  the  little  Mulgar 
wished  to  leave  him,  and  he  made  no  hindrance  except  his 
own  sadness  to  his  going.  He  gave  him  out  of  his  own 
pocket  a  silver  groat  with  a  hole  in  it,  and  a  large  piece  of 
fine  looking-glass,  besides  the  necklet  of  clear  blue  Bamba- 
beads,  and  three  rings  of  copper.  He  gave  him,  too,  one 
leaf  of  his  little  fat  book,  and  in  this  Nod  wrapped  his 
Wonderstone.  Nor  even  in  his  kindness  did  Battle  say 
the  least  word  about  his  big  coat  and  Ephelanto-belt  and 
his  Fulby's  hairy  hat — all  which  things  he  supposed  (Mul- 
gars  being  by  nature  thieves  and  robbers  in  his  mind) 
Nod's  brothers  had  stolen. 

"Good-bye,  my  son,"  he  said.  "  'Bravely,  ole  sailor, 
take  your  lot!'  There,  there;  I  make  no  dwelling  on  fine 
words.  Good-bye,  and  don't  forget  your  larnin'.  There's 
many  a  fuU-growed  Christian  Battle's  come  acrost  in  his 
seafarin' — but  there,  flattery  butters  no  parsnips.  Good- 
bye, once  more,  Mulgar  mio,  and  thankee  kindly." 

r— 153— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Nod  raised  his  hands  above  his  head.  "Oomgar, 
Oomgar,"  he  said,  with  eyes  shut  and  trembhng  lips,  "ah- 
mi,  ah-mi;  sulani,  ghar  magleer."  Then,  with  a  heavy 
heart,  he  turned  away,  and  without  looking  back  ran 
scampering  as  fast  as  he  could  to  the  five  Ukka-trees.  His 
brothers  had  long  been  awaiting  him,  and  swang  down 
gladly  from  their  sleeping-bowers  in  the  trees.  Then, 
with  the  hut  and  the  Oomgar's  pillar  of  smoke  upon  their 
cudgel-hand,  they  set  out  once  more,  all  but  due  North, 
towards  the  Valleys  of  Assasimmon. 


Ji^^^^,^ 


—154— 


CHAPTER  XIII 


The  sun  rose  and  beat  down  on  the  hare  expanse  of  snow. 
But  soon  they  lurched  headlong  down  again  into  the  forest. 
But  it  was  forest  not  so  dense  as  the  forest  of  the  jNIinimul 
mounds,  nor  by  a  tenth  part  as  dark  as  the  forest  where 
haunts  the  Telateuti.  At  scent  of  Nod  every  small  beast 
and  bird  scuttled  off  and  flew  away.  And  it  was  dreary 
marching  for  the  travellers  where  all  that  lived  feared 
even  their  savour  on  the  wind.  But  by  evening  they  had 
pushed  on  past  Battle's  farthest  hunting,  and  being  wear- 
ied with  their  long  day's  march,  nor  any  tracks  of  leopards 
to  be  seen,  they  made  no  fire  with  their  fire-sticks,  but 
gathered  a  big  heap  of  dry  leaves  scattered  in  abundance 
by  this  strange  cold,  this  Witzaweelwullah,  and  huddled 
themselves  close  for  warmth  in  sleep. 

Next  day  they  broke  out  into  the  open  again,  and  before 
them,  clear  as  amber  or  coral,  still  and  beautiful  in  the 
sunrise,  rose  afar  off  upon  the  horizon  the  solitary  peaks, 

—155— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

which  are  seven — Kush,  Zut,  and  Kippel,  Sokni,  Makkri, 
Moot,  and  JNIulgar-meerez — the  Mountains  of  Arakkaboa. 

All  this  day  they  trudged  on  in  difficulty  and  discom- 
fort, for  the  ground  was  sharp  and  stony,  and  sloped  now 
perpetually  upward.  And  though  at  first  sight  of  them 
it  had  seemed  they  had  need  but  to  stretch  out  a  finger  to 
touch  the  mountain-tops,  they  found  the  farther  they 
journeyed  towards  them  the  more  distant  seemed  these 
wonderful  peaks  to  be.     And  their  spirits  began  to  sink. 

On  the  evening  of  the  fifth  day  Thumb  and  Thimble 
were  stooping  together  over  their  fire-sticks  in  a  great 
waste  of  bare  rocks,  while  Nod  was  pounding  up  a  sweet 
but  unknown  fruit  they  had  found  in  their  day's  march 
growing  close  upon  the  ground,  when  suddenly  they  heard 
in  the  distance  a  hubbub  of  shouts  and  cries  the  like  of 
which  they  had  never  heard  in  their  lives  before.  They 
hastily  concealed  their  small  bundles  of  food  in  a  crevice 
of  the  rocks,  and,  creeping  cautiously,  peered  out  in  the 
last  rays  of  the  sun  in  order  to  discover  the  cause  of  this 
prodigious  uproar. 

And  they  saw  advancing  towards  them  a  vast  host  and 
multitude  of  the  painted  Babbabooma-mulgars,  travelling, 
as  is  their  custom,  in  company  across  these  desolate  wastes. 
On  they  came  rapidly,  the  biggest  males  on  the  margins. 
But  presently,  while  they  were  yet  some  little  way  off, 
at  sound  of  a  great  shout  all  came  to  a  standstill,  the  sun 
now  being  set,  to  take  up  their  night-quarters.  Even  in 
the  fading  light  their  body-colours  glowed,  scarlet  and 
purple,  and  bright  Candar  blue,  where,  squatting  in  their 
hundreds  at  supper  (some  meanwhile  pacing  sedately  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  company  like  watchmen,  to  and  fro 

—156— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

on  all  fours,  with  long,  doglike  snouts  and  jutting  teeth), 
they  made  their  evening  encampment. 

All  that  night  our  Mulla-mulgars  never  ventured  to 
kindle  a  fire.  They  huddled  for  warmth  as  best  they  could 
in  a  crevice  of  the  rocks,  warmed  only  by  their  own  hairy 
bodies.  For  they  had  heard  of  old  from  Seelem  how  these 
Babbabooma  troops  resent  with  ferocity  the  least  meddling 
with  them.  They  will  speedily  stone  to  death  any  in- 
truder, and  will  tear  a  leopard  in  pieces  with  their  teeth. 
But  the  travellers,  all  three,  curiously,  cautiously  peeping 
out,  watched  their  doings  while  there  was  the  least  light 
left,  taking  good  care  that  not  a  spark  of  their  jackets 
should  be  seen,  for  these  Babbaboomas  fret  more  fiercely 
even  than  our  bulls  at  the  colour  red. 

They  watched  them  sprinkling,  scratching  themselves, 
like  the  Mullabruks,  with  their  feet,  and  dusting  their  great 
bodies  with  diy  snow,  rubbing  it  in  with  their  hands,  though 
for  what  pm*pose,  seeing  that  snow  had  never  whitened 
their  pilgrimages  before,  who  can  say?  The  children,  the 
Karakeena-Babbaboomas,  squealed  and  frisked  and  gam- 
bolled in  the  last  sunshine  together,  quarrelling  and  at 
play.  The  old  men  sat  silent,  munching  with  half-closed 
eyes,  and  watching  them.  And  it  seemed  that  the  big 
shes  of  the  Babbaboomas  had  brought  some  small  tufty, 
goatlike  animals  with  them,  which  they  now  sat  milking 
into  pots  or  gourds.  And  with  this  milk  they  presently 
fed  the  littlest  of  the  young  ones. 

For  many  hours  after  the  sun  had  gone  down  the  three 
brothers  sat  wide  awake,  whispering  together,  listening  to 
the  talk  and  palaver  of  the  chiefs  of  the  Babbaboomas. 
Sometimes  they  seemed  to  be  clamouring,  fifty  together; 

—157— 


THE  THRIVE  MULLA-MULGARS 

and  then  presently  a  great  still  voice  would  be  lifted  over 
them,  and  all  would  fall  silent;  while  of  its  calm  authority 
the  master-voice  said,  "So  shall  it  be,"  or  "Thus  do  we 
make  it."  Then  once  more  the  clamour  of  the  rabble 
would  break  out  again.  But  what  its  meaning  was,  and 
whether  they  were  merely  gossiping  together,  or  quarrel- 
ling, or  holding  consultation,  or  whether  it  was  that  the 
loud  voice  gave  law  and  justice  to  the  rest,  Nod  tried  in 
vain  to  discover.  So  at  last,  though  much  against  his 
brothers'  counsel,  very  curious  to  see  what  could  occasion 
all  this  talk,  he  crept  gradually,  boulder  by  boulder,  nearer 
to  their  great  rocky  bivouac.  And  there,  by  the  silvery 
lustre  of  a  dying  moon,  he  peeped  and  peered.  But 
though  he  plainly  saw  against  the  whiteness  the  pacing  sen- 
tinels, and  others  of  the  Babbaboomas,  huddling  by  fami- 
lies close  for  warmth  in  sleep  beneath  the  rocks,  he  could 
not  discover  where  their  parliament  or  talkers  were  as- 
sembled. But  still  he  heard  them  gabbling,  and  still,  ever 
and  anon,  the  great  harsh  voice  sounding  above  all  until 
at  last  this,  too,  ceased,  and  save  for  the  befrosted  watch- 
men, the  whole  innumerable  horde  of  them  lay — with  the 
peaks  of  Arakkaboa  to  north  of  them,  and  Sulemnagar  to 
south — in  that  still  dying  moonlight  fast  asleep.  Then 
he,  too,  scuffled  softly  back  by  the  way  he  had  come. 

By  morning  (for  the  Babbaboomas  are  on  the  march 
before  daybreak),  when  the  brothers  awoke,  cold  and 
cramped,  in  their  rocky  cavern,  the  whole  concourse  was 
gone,  and  not  a  sign  left  of  them  except  their  scattered 
shells  and  husks,  their  innumerable  footprints,  and  the 
stones  they  had  rooted  up  in  search  of  whatever  small 

—158— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

creeping  food  might  lurk  beneath.  Else  they  seemed  a 
dream — Meermuts  of  the  moonlight! 

By  noon  of  next  day  the  travellers  approached  the 
mountain-slopes.  They  crossed  down  into  a  valley,  and 
now  the  farther  they  went  the  steeper  rose  the  bare,  snow- 
flecked  mountain-side,  and  beyond  and  around  them  loftier 
heights  yet,  while  in  the  midst  spired  into  the  midday  Kush, 
the  first  of  the  seven  of  the  sacred  peaks  of  Tishnar.  Ever 
and  again  they  were  startled  by  the  sudden  crash  of  the 
snow  sweeping  in  long-drawn  avalanches  from  the  steeps 
of  the  hills.  And  though  it  was  desolate  to  see  those 
towering  and  unfriendly  mountains,  their  snowy  precipices 
and  dazzling  peaks,  yet  their  hearts  came  back  to  them,  for 
a  warm  wind  was  blowing  through  the  valley,  and  they 
knew  the  white  and  cold  of  the  snow  would  soon  be  over, 
and  the  forest  be  green  again,  and  once  more  would  come 
the  flowering  of  the  fruit-trees,  and  the  ripening  of  the 
nuts. 

But  here  it  was  that  a  bitter  quarrel  began  between  the 
brothers  that  might  have  ended  in  not  one  of  them  ever 
seeing  Tishnar's  Valleys  alive.  It  was  like  this:  Not 
knowing  in  which  direction  to  be  going  in  order  to  seek 
for  a  path  or  pass  whereby  to  scale  Arakkaboa,  they  were 
at  a  loss  what  to  be  doing.  Even  the  JNIunza-mulgars  de- 
test being  more  than  the  height  of  the  loftiest  forest-tree 
above  their  shadows  on  the  ground ;  more  especially,  there- 
fore, did  these  Mulla-mulgars,  who  never,  or  very  rarely, 
as  I  have  said  many  times  already,  climb  trees  at  all.  So 
they  determined  to  stay  awhile  here  and  rest  and  eat  until 
some  Mulgar  should  come  along  of  whom  they  could  ask 

—159— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

the  way.  It  was  a  valley  rich  with  the  sweet  ground- 
fruit  I  have  already  mentioned,  whose  spikes  of  a  faint 
and  thorny  blue  mount  just  above  the  snow,  and  whose 
berries,  owing  to  their  sugary  coats  or  pods,  resist  all  cold- 
ness. So  that,  without  mention  of  Ukka-nuts,  of  which 
a  grove  grew  not  far  beyond  the  bend  of  the  valley,  the 
travellers  had  plenty  to  eat.  They  had  also  an  abundance 
of  water,  because  of  a  little  torrent  that  came  roaring 
through  its  ice  near  by  the  trees  they  had  chosen  for  their 
lodging.  The  wind  that  softly  blew  along  this  low  land 
was  warmer,  or,  at  least,  not  so  keen  and  fitful  as  the 
forest  wind,  and  they  were  by  now  growing  accustomed  to 
the  cold.  For  the  night,  however,  they  raised  up  for 
themselves  a  kind  of  leaning  shelter,  or  huddle,  of  branches 
to  be  moved  against  the  wind  according  as  it  blew  up  or 
down  the  valley. 

But  idleness  leads  to  mischief.  And  not  to  press  on  is  to 
be  sliding  backward.  And  to  wait  for  help  is  to  let  help 
limp  out  of  sight.  And  overcome,  perhaps,  by  the  luscious 
fruit,  of  which  they  ate  far  too  much  and  far  too  often, 
and  growing  sluggardly  with  sleep,  the  travellers  soon 
went  on  to  bickering  and  scuffling  together.  With  all  this 
food,  too,  and  long  sleep  and  idleness,  their  courage  began 
to  droop.  And  if  they  heard  any  sound  of  living  thing, 
even  so  much  as  a  call  or  crackling  branch,  they  would 
sneak  off  and  hide  in  their  night-shelter,  not  caring  now 
for  any  kind  of  boldness  nor  to  think  of  venturing  over 
these  homeless  mountains. 

So  it  came  about  that  one  night,  as  they  were  sleeping 
together  under  their  huddle,  as  was  their  custom.  Thumb, 
who  had  been  nibbling  fruit  nearly  all  day  long,  cried  out 

—160— 


THE  THREE  MULL A-MUL GARS 

in  a  loud  and  terrible  voice  in  his  sleep,  till  Thimble,  half 
awakened  by  his  raving,  picked  up  his  thick  cudgel  and  laid 
it  soundly  across  his  brother's  shoulders  where  he  lay. 
Thumb  started  up  out  of  his  sleep,  and  in  an  instant  the 
two  brothers  were  up  and  at  each  other,  wrestling  and 
kicking,  gnashing  their  teeth,  and  guzzling  through  their 
throats  and  noses  like  mere  Gungas,  MuUabruks,  or  Man- 
quabees.  Poor  Nod,  not  knowing  what  was  the  cause 
of  all  the  trouble,  got  a  much  worse  drubbing  than  either, 
till  at  last,  in  their  furious  struggling,  all  three  brothers 
rolled  from  under  the  wattles  into  the  pale  glimmering  of 
the  stars  and  snow.  For  in  this  valley  after  the  sun  goes 
moves  a  phantom  light  or  phosphorescence  over  the  snow. 
Brought  suddenly  to  their  senses  by  the  chill  dark  air,  the 
travellers  sat  dimly  glaring  one  at  another,  hunched, 
bruised,  and  breathless.  And  Nod,  seeing  his  brothers 
so  enraged,  and  preparing  to  fight  again,  and  having  had 
half  his  senses  battered  out  by  their  rough  usage,  asked 
what  was  amiss. 

"Ask  him,  ask  him!"  broke  out  Thimble,  "the  fat  and 
stupid,  who  deafens  the  whole  forest  with  his  gluttonous 
screams." 

"'Glutton,  glutton!'"  shouted  Thumb.  "How  many 
nights,  my  brother  Ummanodda,  have  we  lain  awake  com- 
forting one  another  that  this  dismal  grasshopper  has  only 
one  nose  to  snore  through!  I'll  teach  you,  graffalegs,  to 
break  my  ribs  with  a  cudgel!  Wait  till  a  blink  of  morning 
comes!  Oh,  grammousie,  to  think  I  have  put  up  with 
such  a  Mullabruk  so  long!"  He  lifted  a  frozen  hunch  of 
snow  and  flung  it  full  in  Thimble's  face,  and  soon  once 
more  they  were  scuffling  and  struggling,  cuffing  and  kick- 

—161— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

ing  in  the  silence  that  lay  like  a  cloak  upon  all  the  sacred 
Valleys  of  Tishnar.  They  fought  till,  broken  in  wind 
and  strength,  they  could  fight  no  more.  And  Nod  was 
kept  busy  all  the  rest  of  the  darkness  of  that  night  mend- 
ing the  wounds  of,  and  trying  to  make  peace  with,  now 
one  brother,  now  the  other. 

As  soon  as  daybreak  began  to  stir  between  the  hills. 
Thumb  and  Thimble  rose  up  together,  and  without  a  word, 
with  puffed  and  sullen  faces,  went  off  on  their  fours  and  be- 
gan gathering  a  good  store  of  fruit  and  Ukka-nuts,  each 
very  cautious  of  approaching  too  near  the  other  in  his 
search.  Nod  skipped  drearily  from  one  to  the  other, 
pleading  with  them  to  be  friends.  But  he  got  only  hard 
words  for  his  pains,  and  even  at  last  was  accused  by  both 
of  them  of  stirring  up  a  quarrel  between  them  for  his  own 
pride  and  pleasure.  He  edged  sadly  back  to  the  huddle, 
and  sat  gloomily  watching  them,  wondering  what  next 
they  would  be  at.  He  was  soon  to  know,  for  first  Thimble 
came  back  to  him  where  he  sat  beside  their  night-hut  and 
bade  him  help  tie  up  his  bundle. 

"Where  are  you  going  to.  Thimble?"  said  Nod.  "O 
Thimble,  think  a  little  first!  All  these  days  we  have 
journeyed  in  peace  together.  What  would  our  father, 
Royal  Seelem,  say  to  see  us  now  fighting  and  quarrelling 
like  Mullabruks,  and  all  because  you  cudgelled  Thumb  in 
his  sleep?" 

"In  his  sleep!"  screamed  Thimble.  "Tell  that  to  your 
flesh-eating  Oomgar,  Prince  of  Bonfires!  How  could  he 
be  asleep,  when  he  was  squealing  like  a  Boobab  full  of 
parakeets?  I  go  back — back  now.  Who  can  climb 
mountains  with  a  fat  hulk  who  takes  two  breaths  to  an 

—162— 


THE  THREE  MULL A-MUL GARS 

Ukka-nut?  Come,  if  you  dare!  But  I  care  not,  whether 
or  no."  And  with  that,  catching  up  bundle  and  cudgel, 
with  a  last  black  look  over  his  shoulder  at  Thumb,  Thimble 
started  off  down  the  valley  towards  the  forest  they  had  so 
bravely  left  behind. 

Not  a  moment  had  he  been  gone  when  Thumb  came 
limping  and  waddling  back  to  the  shelter,  loaded  with  nuts 
and  berries. 

"Sit  here  and  sulk,  if  you  like,  Nizza-neela,"  he  growled 
angrily.  "Come  with  me,  or  traipse  back  with  that  scat- 
terbrains.  Whichever  you  please,  I  care  not.  I  am  sick 
of  the  glutton  that  eats  all  day  and  cannot  sleep  of  nights 
for  thinking  of  his  supper." 

"How  can  I  go  with  you,"  said  Nod  bitterly,  "when 
I  would  not  go  with  Thimble?  O  Mulla-mulgar  Thumb, 
you  who  are  the  eldest  and  strongest  and  wisest  of  us,  be 
now  the  best,  too!  Hasten  after  Thimble,  and  bring  him 
back  to  be  friends.  How  can  we  show  our  faces  to  our 
Uncle  Assasimmon,  even  if  we  get  over  these  dreadful 
mountains,  saying  we  wrangled  and  gandered  all  one  cold 
night  together  simply  because  you  screamed  out  with  fear 
in  your  sleep?" 

"Thumb  scream!  Thumb  afraid!  Thumb  sweat  after 
Lean-legs!  If  you  had  not  been  my  mother's  youngest 
son,  Ummanodda,  you  should  never  open  that  impudent 
mouth  again!"  And  with  that,  off  went  Thumb,  too,  not 
caring  whither,  so  long  as  it  led  him  farthest  away  from 
Thimble. 

Now,  not  to  make  too  much  ado  about  this  precious 
quarrel,  this  is  what  befell  the  travellers:  Thimble,  face 
towards  Munza,  trotted — one,  two,  three;  one,  two,  three 

—163— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

— stonily  on.  But  in  a  while  solitude  began  to  gather 
about  him,  and  the  cold  after  the  heat  of  the  fight  struck 
chill  and  woke  again  his  lazy  senses.  He  sat  down  to 
wrap  up  his  bruises,  wondering  where  to  be  going,  what 
to  be  doing.  The  Oomgar,  the  Nameless,  the  jNIinimuls, 
the  River,  the  Gunga — even  if,  he  thought,  he  should  es- 
cape again  all  the  dangers  they  had  so  narrowly  but  just 
come  through  together,  what  lay  at  the  end  of  it  all?  A 
little  blackened  heap  of  ashes,  the  mockery  of  Munza- 
mulgar,  and  his  mother's  speechless  and  sorrowful  ghost. 
What's  more,  while  he  sat  idly  nibbling  his  nuts,  for  his 
tongue  had  suddenly  wearied  of  the  luscious  ground-fruit, 
he  saw  moving  between  the  rocks  no  sweeter  company  than 
a  she-leopard  gazing  grinningly  on  him  where  he  sat  be- 
neath his  rock. 

Now,  these  leopards,  made  cunning  by  experience, 
and  knowing  that  a  Mulla-mulgar  will  fight  long  and 
bravely  for  his  life,  if,  when  the}'-  are  hunting  alone,  they 
spy  out  such  a  one  alone,  too,  they  trot  softly  back  until 
they  meet  with  another  of  their  kind.  Then,  with  purring 
and  clashing  of  whiskers,  they  come  to  a  sworn  and 
friendly  understanding  together,  sharing  out  their  sup- 
per-meat before  they  have  so  muc^h  as  sharpened  their 
claws.  Then  at  nightfall  both  go  hunting  their  prey  in 
harmony  together.  Thimble  well  knew  this  crafty  and 
evil  practice,  and  when  dusk  fell,  he  listened  and  watched 
without  stirring.  And  soon,  over  the  snow,  he  heard  the 
faint  mewings  and  coughings  of  his  enemies,  both  shes,  of 
wonderful  clear,  dark  Roses,  coming  on  as  thievishly  and 
as  softly  towards  him  as  a  cat  in  search  of  her  kittens.     So 

—164— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

he  tore  off  a  little  strip  of  his  tattered  red  jacket  and 
laid  it  in  the  snow.  Then  away  he  scuttled  till  he  must 
needs  pause  to  breathe  himself  beneath  a  farther  rock. 

Meanwhile  the  ravenous  huntresses,  having  come  to  the 
strip  of  Mulgar-scented  rag,  of  their  natures  had  to  stop 
and  sniff  and  to  disport  themselves  with  that  awhile,  as  if 
to  smell  a  dinner  cooking  is  to  enjoy  it  more  when  cooked. 
This  done,  they  once  more  set  forward  with  sharper  hunger 
along  Thimble's  track.  Three  times  did  Thimble  so  play 
with  them,  and  at  the  third  appetizing  rag  the  leopards, 
famished  and  over-eager,  hardly  paused  at  all  over  his 
keepsake,  but  came  swiftly  coursing  after  him.  And  the 
first,  that  (of  her  own  craft)  was  much  the  younger  and 
fleeter,  soon  out-distanced  her  hunting-mate,  the  which 
was  exactly  the  reason  of  Thimble's  trickery  with  his  red 
flag.  For  when,  panting  and  alone,  the  first  Roses  had 
got  well  ahead  of  the  other.  Thimble  dashed  suddenly  out 
upon  her  from  a  rock,  and  before  she  could  bare  her  teeth, 
he  had  caught  her  forefoot  between  his  grinding  jaws  and 
bitten  it  clean  to  the  bone.  It  spoilt  poor  Roses'  taste 
for  supper,  and,  seeing  now  that  her  sister  was  past  fight- 
ing, and  only  too  eager  to  leave  the  Mulgar  to  his  lone, 
her  mate  slunk  off  without  more  ado  to  her  own  lair, 
to  feast  on  the  morning's  bones  of  a  frost-bitten  Mulla- 
'bruk. 

But  Thimble,  though  he  had  worsted  the  leopards, 
hadn't  much  liking  or  stomach  for  nights  as  wild  as  this. 
Thumb's  nightmares  were  sweet  peace  to  it.  All  the  next 
day  he  wandered  about,  not  heeding  whither  his  footsteps 
led  him.     And  so  it  came  about  that  just  before  evening 

—165— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

he  stumbled  upon  the  very  same  valley  he  had  left  in  his 
sulks  the  morning  before.  There,  indeed,  sat  Nod,  fast 
asleep  in  the  evening  light  for  sheer  weariness  of  watching 
for  his  brothers,  who,  some  faint  hope  had  told  him,  would 
return. 

As  for  Thumb,  after  limping  on  up  the  valley  a  little 
more  than  a  league,  he  soon  grew  ashamed  and  sick  at  heart 
at  having  so  easily  become  a  silly  child  again.  He  sat 
down  under  a  great  boulder,  humped  round  with  ants' 
nests,  too  desolate  to  go  on,  too  proud  to  turn  back.  All 
that  day  and  the  next  he  sat  moodily  watching  these  never- 
idle  little  creatures,  that,  afraid  of  nothing,  are  feared  of 
all.  They  had  tunnelled  and  walled,  and  wherever  sun- 
beams fell  had  cast  back  the  snow  that  hung  above  the 
galleries.  And  all  day  long  they  kept  going  and  coming, 
carrying  syrup  and  eggs  and  meat,  and  all  this  with  end- 
less palaver  of  their  waving  horns,  as  if  there  were  noth- 
ing else  that  side  of  Arakkaboa  but  the  business  of  their 
city.  Thumb  alive  they  paid  no  heed  to,  but  Thumb  dead 
they  would  have  picked  to  the  bare  bones  before  sunset. 

The  next  evening  Thumb's  better  head  overcame  him, 
and  back  he  went  to  his  brothers,  sitting  miserable  and 
forlorn  in  the  new  moonlight  beneath  their  shelter.  Noth- 
ing was  said.  They  dared  scarcely  look  into  each  other's 
faces  awhile,  until  Thumb  caught  Nod's  bright,  anxious 
little  eyes  glancing  under  his  puckered  forehead  from 
brother  to  brother,  in  mortal  fear  they  would  soon  be 
breaking  out  again.  And  Nod  looked  so  queer,  and  small, 
and  anxious,  and  loving,  and  all  these  things  so  much  at 
once,  that  Thumb  burst  out  into  a  roar  of  laughter.     And 

—166— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

there  they  sat  all  three,  rocking  to  and  fro,  holding  their 
sides  beneath  the  gigantic  steeps  of  Arakkaboa,  happy  and 
at  peace  together  again,  while  tears  ran  down  their  nose- 
troughs,  with  their  shouts  on  shouts  of  laughter. 


-167— 


CHAPTER  XIV 


Next  day  the  travellers  were  about  very  early,  combing 
and  grooming  themselves  in  the  dawn-mist  for  the  first 
time  these  many  days,  and  before  the  sun  had  shot  his 
first  colours  across  Arakkaboa,  they  had  eaten  and  drunk 
and  set  out  from  the  valley  of  the  languid  and  luscious 
fruits  that  had  been  the  chief  cause  of  all  their  folly. 
I  They  pushed  up  the  valley,  searching  anxiously  the  hill- 
sides for  sign  of  any  track  or  path  by  which  they  might 
ascend.  The  day  was  crisp  and  golden  with  sunlight. 
And  that  evening  they  made  their  night-quarters  beside 
a  vast  frozen  pool  in  a  kind  of  cup  of  the  overhanging 
cliffs.  Here  every  word  they  said  came  hollowly  back 
in  echo. 

They  cried,  "Seelem!"     "Seelem,  Seelem!"  replied  the 
mocking  voices. 

"Ummani   nata?     Still   we  go   on?"   shouted   Thumb 
hoarsely. 

"Nata,  nata!     On,  on,  on!"  sang  echo  hoarselier  yet. 

—168— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Wind  had  swept  clean  the  glassy  floor.  In  its  black 
lustre  gleamed  the  increasing  moon.  And  after  dark 
had  fallen,  mists  arose  and  trailed  in  moonlit  beauty  across 
the  granite  escarpments  of  the  hills.  So  that  night  the 
travellers  lay  in  a  vast  tent  of  lovely  solitude,  with  only 
the  strange  noises  of  the  ice  and  the  whisperings  of  the 
frost  to  tell  poor  wakeful  Nod  he  was  anji:hing  more 
than  a  little  Mulgar  in  a  dream. 

Next  morning  early  they  met  one  of  those  crack-brained 
Moh-mulgars  that  wander,  eat,  sleep,  live,  and  die  alone, 
having  broken  away  from  all  traffic  and  company  with 
their  friends  and  kinsmen.  He  wore  about  his  neck  a 
double-coiled  necklet  of  little  bones,  and  wound  round  his 
middle  a  plait  of  Cullum.  He  was  dirty,  bowed,  and 
matted,  and  his  eyes  were  glazed  as  he  lifted  them  into  the 
sunlight  in  answer  to  Thumb's  shout: 

"Tell  us,  O  M6h-mulgar,  we  beseech  you,  how  shall 
three  travellers  to  the  kingdom  of  Assasimmon  find  a 
pathway  across  these  hills?" 

The  Moh-mulgar  lifted  both  gnarled  hands  above  his 
head. 

"Geguslar  nooma  gulmeta  muhl"  replied  a  thick,  half- 
brutal  voice. 

"What  does  he  say?"  said  Nod,  wondering  to  see  him 
wave  his  spotted  arms  as  he  wagged  his  crazy  head. 

"Well,"  says  Thumb,  "what  he  says  is  this:  'Death's  at 
the  end  of  all  paths.'  " 

Thimble  coughed.     "So  it  is,"  he  said  solemnly. 

"Ay,"  said  Thumb;  "but  what  I  was  asking  was  the 
longest  way  round.  ...  A  track,  a  path  to  the  beautiful 
Valleys  of  Tishnar,"  he  shouted  across  to  the  solitary  Moh- 

—169— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

niulgar.  Sorrowfully  he  waved  his  bony  arms  about  his 
head,  and  stooped  again.  "Geguslar,  nooma  gulmeta 
muh !"  came  back  his  dismal  answer. 

Thimble,  with  a  sign  to  him,  laid  gravely  down  a  little 
heap  of  nuts  in  the  snow.  And  the  three  travellers  left 
the  old  pilgrim  still  standing  desolate  and  unquestionable 
in  the  snow,  watching  them  till  they  were  gone  out  of 
sight. 

Coming  presently  after  to  some  trees  with  tough, 
straight  branches,  the  travellers  made  themselves  fresh 
cudgels.  After  which,  to  raise  their  fallen  spirits,  they 
played  hop-pole  awhile  in  the  sunshine,  just  as  they  used  to 
in  the  first  days  of  the  snow  before  they  set  out  on  their 
travels.  And  about  noon,  when  the  sun  stood  radiant 
above  them,  they  met  three  ]Men  of  the  JNIountains,  with 
shallow  baskets  on  their  heads,  coming  down  to  gather 
Ukka-nuts  in  the  valle3\  These  INIulgars  have  long  silken, 
black-and-white  hair  and  very  profuse  w^hiskers.  They 
are  sad  in  face,  with  pouting  lips,  have  but  the  meanest 
of  thumbs,  and  turn  their  toes  in  as  they  walk,  one  behind 
another,  and  sometimes  in  chains  of  a  hundred  together. 
Thumb  stood  in  their  path,  and  inquired  of  the  first  of 
them,  as  before,  which  way  they  must  follow  to  cross  the 
mountains. 

The  voice  of  the  Man  of  the  Mountains  who  answered 
them  was  so  high  and  weak  Nod  could  scarcely  hear  his 
whisper.     "There  is  no  way  over,"  he  said. 

"But  over  we  must  go,"  said  Thumb. 

The  other  shook  his  head,  and  looked  sadder  than  ever. 
And  on  they  all  three  went  again,  lisping  softly  together, 
but  without  another  word  to  Thumb. 

—170— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"What's  to  be  done  now?"  said  Nod. 

"Where  they  came  down,  we  can  go  up,"  said  Thumb. 

So,  the  Men  of  the  Mountains  being  now  hidden  from 
sight  by  the  rocks  below.  Thumb  and  his  brothers  turned 
up  the  narrow  track  between  great  boulders  of  stone,  by 
which  they  had  come  down.  And  glad  they  were  of  the 
new  staves  or  cudgels  they  had  broken  off.  Even  with 
the  help  of  these,  so  steep  was  the  path  that  they  had 
often  to  pull  themselves  up  by  roots  and  jutting  rocks. 
And  gradually,  besides  being  steep,  the  way  grew  so  nar- 
row that  they  were  simply  walking  on  a  ledge  of  rock  not 
more  than  two  Mulgar  paces  wide.  And  for  giddiness 
Nod  nearly  fell  flat  when  by  chance  he  turned  his  eyes  and 
looked  down  to  where,  far  below,  a  frozen  torrent  gleamed 
faintly  amid  huge  boulders  that  looked  from  this  height 
no  bigger  than  pebble-stones. 

It  made  him  giddy  even  to  keep  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
narrowing  path  before  him,  and  shuffle  up,  up,  up. 

Suddenly,  Thumb,  who  was  wheezing  and  panting  a  few 
paces  in  front,  came  to  a  standstill. 

"What  is  it.  Thumb?"  said  Nod. 

"Why  do  you  stop.  Nod?"  said  Thimble,  who  was  last 
of  all. 

"Look,  look!"  said  Thumb. 

They  slowly  raised  their  eyes,  and  not  a  hundred  paces 
beyond  them,  on  the  same  narrow  ledge  of  rock  against 
the  deep  blue  sky,  came  slowly  winding  down  thirty  at 
least  of  these  same  meagre  and  hairy  Men  of  the  Moun- 
tains, a  few  with  long  staves  in  their  hands,  and  every  one 
with  his  long  tufted  tail  over  his  shoulder  and  a  round 
shallow  basket  on  his  head.     These  Men  of  the  Moun- 

—171— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

tains  have  very  weak  eyes;  and  it  was  not  until  they  were 
come  close  that  they  perceived  the  three  travellers  standing 
on  their  mountain-path.  The  first  stopped,  then  he  that 
was  next,  and  so  on,  until  they  looked  like  a  long  black- 
and-white  caterpillar,  clinging  to  the  precipice,  with  tiny 
tufts  waving  in  the  air. 

Thumb  raised  his  hand  as  if  in  peace.  "We  are,  sirs, 
strangers  to  these  rocks  and  hills.  After  the  shade  of 
Munza,  our  eyes  dizzy  with  the  heights.  And  we  walk, 
journeying  to  the  Courts  of  Assasimmon,  in  great  danger 
of  falhng.     How,  then,  shall  we  pass  by?" 

They  heard  a  faint,  shrill  whispering  all  along  the  hairy 
row.  Then  the  first  of  the  Men  of  the  Mountains  came 
quite  close,  and  told  the  three  brothers  to  lie  down  fiat  on 
their  faces,  and  he  and  his  thirty  would  all  walk  gently 
over  them.  "But  to  go  on  has  no  end,"  he  said,  "and 
the  travellers  had  better  far  turn  back." 

At  this  Thumb  grew  angry.  "What  does  the  old  grey- 
beard mean?"  he  coughed  out  of  the  corner  of  his  mouth. 
"JNIulla-mulgars  stoop  on  their  faces  to  no  one.  Do  you 
lie  down  on  yours." 

The  old  Mountain-mulgar  blinked.  "We  are  thirty; 
you  are  three,"  he  said.     Thumb  laughed. 

"We  are  strangers  to  Arakkaboa,  O  Man  of  the  Moun- 
tains. And  we  fear  to  lie  down,  lest  we  never  rise  up 
again."  At  this  civil  speech  the  old  Mulgar  went  shuf- 
fling back  to  the  others. 

And,  to  Nod's  astonishment,  he  presently  saw  him  take 
his  long  staff  of  tough,  sinewy  wood,  and  thrust  it  into  a 
little  crevice  of  the  rock,  even  with  the  path,  so  that  about 
a  third  of  its  length  overhung  the  precipice.     Meanwhile, 

—172— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

another  of  these  Mountain-mulgars  had  in  the  same  way 
thrust  his  staff  into  the  rock  a  httle  farther  down.  The 
first  Man  of  the  Mountains,  who  was,  perhaps  by  half 
a  span,  taller  than  the  rest,  took  firm  hold  of  the  end  of 
his  staff  with  his  long-fingered  but  ahnost  thumbless  hands, 
and  lightly  swung  himself  down  over  the  precipice.  The 
next  scrambled  down  over  his  shoulders  until  he  swung 
by  his  leader's  heels ;  the  next  followed,  and  so  on.  Three 
such  Mulgar  strings  presently  hung  down  from  their  staves 
over  the  abyss.  And  there  being  thirty  Men  of  the  Moun- 
tains in  all,  each  string  consisted  of  ten.  [For  this  reason 
some  call  these  Mountain-mulgars  Caterpillar  or  Ladder 
Mulgar  s.] 

When  they  were  all  thus  quietly  dangling,  their  leader 
bade  Thumb  advance.  Stepping  warily  over  the  little 
heaps  of  baskets,  this  the  brothers  did.  But  as  Nod  passed 
each  string  in  turn,  and  saw  it  swinging  softly  over  the 
sheer  precipice,  and  all  the  ten  faces  with  pale  eyes  blinking 
sadly  up  at  him  out  of  their  fluff  of  hair,  he  thought  he 
should  certainly  be  toppled  over  and  dashed  to  pieces. 
At  last,  however,  all  three  were  safely  passed  by.  But 
the  rocky  ledge  was  here  so  narrow  that  Thimble  could 
not  even  turn  himself  about  to  thank  the  Mountain-mul- 
gars for  their  courtesy,  nor  to  watch  them  climb  back  one 
by  one  to  their  mountain-path  again. 

On  and  on,  up,  ever  up,  climbed  the  ribbon-like  path 
winding  about  the  granite  flanks  of  Kush.  Once  Nod 
lifted  up  his  face,  and  saw  in  one  swift  glimpse  the  glit- 
tering peaks  and  crest  of  the  mountains  rising  in  beauty, 
crowned  with  snow,  out  of  the  vast  sun-shafted  precipices. 
He  hastily  shut  his  eyes,  and  his  knees  trembled.     But 

—173— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

there  could  be  no  turning  back  now.  He  followed  on 
close  behind  his  fat,  panting  brother,  until  suddenly 
Thumb  leapt  back  to  a  standstill,  shouting  in  a  voice  of 
fear:     "O  ho,  ho!     Ilia  ulla,  ilia  ulla!     O  ho,  ho!" 

"O  Thumb,  why  do  you  call  'ho!'  like  that?"  said  Nod 
anxiously. 

"Back,  back!"  Thumb  cried;  "du  steepa  datz." 

Nod  stooped  low  on  the  smooth  rock,  and  under  the  tat- 
ters of  Thimib's  metal-hooked  coat  stared  out  between 
his  brother's  bandy  legs.  He  simply  looked  out  of  that 
hairy  window  straight  into  the  empty  air.  They  stood  like 
peering  cormorants  at  the  cliff's  edge.  The  path  had 
come  to  an  end. 

Thumb  whined  softly  and  coughed,  and  a  faint  steam 
rose  up  from  his  body.  "We  must  go  back,"  he  barked 
huskily. 

"Yes,  brother,"  said  Thimble  softly;  "but  I  cannot  go 
back.  If  I  turn,  down  I  go.  But  if  you  two  can  turn, 
down  go  will  I." 

"Tishnar,  O  Tishnar,"  cried  Nod  in  terror,  "the  hills 
are  dancing." 

"Softly,  softly,  child!"  said  Thumb.  "It  is  only  your 
giddy  eyes  rolling.  What's  more,"  he  said,  pretending  to 
laugh,  "those  old  hairy  Men  of  the  Mountains,  even  if  only 
Meermuts,  must  have  come  from  somewhere.  Where  they 
came  from  we  can  go  to.     O  and  Ahoh!"  he  called. 

"Why  do  you  call  'Ahoh!'  Thumb?"  whispered  Nod, 
with  tight-shut  eyes. 

"Both  together,  ThimbuUa,"  muttered  Thumb. 
"Ahoh,  ahoh,  ahoh!"  they  bawled. 

Their  voices  sounded  small  and  far-away.     Only  a  bird 

—174— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

screamed  in  answer  from  the  chasm  beneath.  The  sun 
blazed  shadowlessly  over  the  peak  of  Kush  upon  the  three 
Mulgars,  standing  motionless,  pressed  close  against  the 
steaming  rock.  To  Nod  the  minutes  crawled  like  hours, 
while  he  crouched  sick  and  trembling,  clutching  Thumb's 
rags  to  keep  him  from  falling. 

"Thimble,  my  brother,"  at  last  called  Thumb  softly, 
"could  you,  if  little  Nod  twisted  himself  round,  straddle 
your  legs  enough  to  let  him  creep  through?  We  old  glut- 
tonous fellows  were  never  meant  for  mountain-climbing. 

And  standing  here  over  the  great  misty  pot "     But 

just  then  it  seemed  to  Thumb  he  felt,  light  as  the  wind, 
something  softly  pluck  at  his  wool  hat.  Very,  very  slowly, 
and  without  a  word,  he  lifted  his  head  and  looked  up — 
looked  straight  up  into  the  sorrowful  hairy  face  of  a  Man 
of  the  Mountains  dangling,  the  last  of  a  long  chain,  from  a 
rocky  parapet  above. 

"Why?"  says  Thumb,  looking  into  his  face.  "What 
then?" 

"Up,  up!"  said  he,  in  a  thin,  lisping  Munza-tongue, 
making  a  step  or  loop  of  his  long  fringed  arms. 

This,  then,  was  the  stairs  or  ladder  on  which  the  travel- 
lers must  climb  into  safety.  But  Thumb  could  barely 
touch  him  with  the  tips  of  his  fingers.  He  stood  in  doubt, 
staring  up.  And  presently  down  that  living  rope  of  Mul- 
gars yet  another  Man  of  the  Mountains  softly  descended, 
and  his  arms  just  reached  Thumb's  elbows. 

"Tread  gently,  Mulla-mulgar,"  said  this  last,  with  a 
doleful  smile.     "You  are  fat,  and  our  ladder  is  slender." 

Thumb,  with  one  white,  doglike  glance  into  the  deeps, 
took  firm  hold,  and  slowly,  heavily,  he  climbed  on  from 

—175— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

trembling  IMulgar  to  trembling  Mulgar  till  at  length  he 
reached  the  top. 

"Now,  Nizza-neela,"  said  the  last  Man  of  the  Moun- 
tains, "it  is  your  turn."  Up  clambered  Nod  after  Thumb, 
groping  carefully  with  the  palms  of  his  feet  from  hairy 
loop  to  loop.  But  he  was  glad  that  the  Men  of  the  Moun- 
tains, as  their  custom  generally  is,  dangled  with  their  faces 
to  the  rock,  and  could  not  see  into  his  eyes. 

At  last  all  three  were  safely  up,  and  found  themselves  on 
a  wide,  smooth,  shelving  ledge  of  the  mountain,  about 
fifty  Mulgar  paces  wide,  with  here  and  there  a  tree  or 
tuft  of  grass,  and  to  the  right  a  cascade  of  ice,  roped  with 
icicles,  streaming  from  the  heights  above.  But  what  most 
Nod  bhnked  in  wonder  at  were  the  small  white  mushroom 
houses  of  these  Mountain-mulgars.  More  than  a  hundred 
of  them  were  here,  standing  like  snow-white  beehives  in 
the  glare  of  the  sun,  each  with  its  low  round  door,  from 
which,  here  and  there,  a  baby  Mulgar,  with  short,  fleecy, 
and  cane-coloured  whiskers,  stood  on  its  fours,  peeping 
at  the  strangers.  When  they  were  all  three  safely  landed, 
one  of  the  Men  of  the  Mountains  led  them  between  the 
beehive  houses  to  a  cool,  shadowy  cavern  in  the  moun- 
tain-side. There  he  bade  them  sit  down,  while  others 
brought  them  a  kind  of  thin,  sour  cheese  and  a  mess  of 
crushed  and  mouldy  Ukka-nuts.  For  these  Arakkaboan 
Mulgars  will  not  so  much  as  look  at  a  nut  fresh  and  crisp ; 
it  must  be  green  and  furred  to  please  their  taste.  And 
while  the  travellers  sat  nibbling  a  little  meanly  of  the 
nuts  and  cheese,  Thumb  told  the  Men  of  the  Mountains 
as  best  he  could  in  the  Munza  tongue  who  they  were,  and 
why  they  were  come  wandering  in  Arakkaboa. 

—176— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

When  Thumb  in  his  talk  made  mention  of  the  name  of 
Tishnar,  the  Mountain-mulgars  that  sat  round  them  in  a 
circle  bobbed  low,  till  the  hair  of  their  faces  touched  the 
cavern  floor. 

"The  Valleys  of  Assasimmon  lie  far  from  here,"  said 
the  first  Mountain-mulgar  in  a  shrill,  thin  voice.  "And 
the  Men  of  the  Mountains  walk  no  mountain-paths  be- 
yond the  peak  of  Zut ;  nor  have  we  ever  dangled  our  ropes 
into  the  Ummuz-groves  of  Tishnar.  I  do  not  even  know 
the  way  thither.  It  would  have  been  go  thin  and  come 
back  fat,  O  MuUa-mulgars,  if  I  did.  Rest  and  sleep  now, 
travellers.  We  will  bring  you  to  the  Mulla-moona-mulgar 
[that  is,  Lord,  or  Captain]  of  Kush  when  he  awakes  from 
his  'glare.'  " 

This  "glare,"  or  "shine,"  is  the  name  of  the  Mountain- 
mulgars  give  to  the  sleep  they  take  in  the  middle  of  the 
day.  Some  little  while  before  "no-shadow,"  as  they  call 
it,  or  noonday,  they  creep  into  their  mushroom  houses  and 
sleep  till  evening  begins  to  settle.  So  weak  have  their 
eyes  become  (or  are,  by  nature)  that  they  rarely  venture 
out  by  day  to  go  nut-gathering  in  the  valleys.  And  often 
then,  even,  many  go  bandaged,  keeping  touch  merely  with 
their  tails.  It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  noonday  sleep  or 
glare  that  the  travellers  had  roused  them  with  their  halloo. 
At  evening  they  awake,  and  when  the  moon  is  clear  their 
ladders  may  be  seen  near  and  far  drooping  over  the  preci- 
pices. And  they  go  walking  with  soft,  shambling  steps 
from  ledge  to  ledge.  Even  the  least  of  them  have  no  fear 
of  any  height.  Their  children  of  an  evening  will  sit  and 
eat  their  suppers,  their  spindle  legs  dangling  over  a  depth 

—177— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

so  extreme  that  no  INIunza-mulgar  could  see  to  the  bot- 
tom. 

Left  alone,  the  Mulla-mulgars,  who  had  been  climb- 
ing many  hours  now,  and  felt  stiff  in  legs  and  back,  were 
glad  to  roll  themselves  over  in  the  flealess  sand  of  the  cav- 
ern, and  soon  were  all  three  asleep. 


pT.t. 


-178— 


CHAPTER  XV 


When  Nod  opened  his  eyes  beneath  the  vast  blue  arch  of 
the  cavern,  not  a  sign  of  the  Men  of  the  IVIountains  was 
to  be  seen.  He  sat  for  awhile  watching  his  brothers 
humped  up  in  sleep  on  the  floor,  and  wondering  rather  dis- 
mally when  they  should  have  done  with  their  troubles  and 
come  to  the  palace  of  their  Uncle  Assasimmon.  He  was 
blained  and  footsore;  his  small  bones  stuck  out  beneath 
his  furry  skin,  his  hands  were  cracked  and  scorched.  And 
the  keen  high  air  of  Arakkaboa  made  him  gasp  at  every 
breath. 

When  Thumb  awoke  they  sat  quietly  mumbling  and 
talking  together  a  while.  Beyond  the  mouth  of  the  cavern 
stood  the  beehive-houses  of  the  Mountain-mulgars,  each 
in  its  splash  of  lengthening  shadow.  Day  drew  on  to  eve- 
ning. An  eagle  squalled  in  space.  Else  all  was  still; 
no  living  thing  stirred.  For  these  Men  of  the  Mountains 
have  no  need  to  keep  watch.     They  sleep  secure  in  their 

—179— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

white  huts.  None  can  come  in,  and  none  go  out  but  first 
they  must  let  down  their  ladders.  Thumb  scrambled  up, 
and  he  and  Nod  hobbled  off  softly  together  to  where  the 
cataract  hung  like  a  shrine  of  hoarfrost  in  pillars  of  green 
ice  from  the  frozen  snows  above.  The  evening  was  filled 
with  light  of  the  colour  of  a  flower.  Even  the  snow  that 
capped  the  mountains  was  faintest  violet  and  rose,  and  far 
in  the  distance,  between  the  peaks  of  Zut  and  misty  Solmi, 
stretched  a  band  of  darkest  purple,  above  which  the  risen 
moon  was  riding  in  pale  gold.  And  Nod  knew  that  there, 
surely,  must  be  Battle's  Sea.  He  pointed  Thumb  to  it, 
and  the  two  Mulgars  stood,  legs  bandy,  teeth  shining,  eyes 
fixed.  Nod  gazed  on  it  bewitched,  till  it  seemed  he  almost 
saw  the  foam  of  its  league-long  billows  rolling,  and  could 
catch  in  his  thin  round  ear  the  roar  and  surge  Battle  had 
so  often  told  him  of.  "Ohe!  if  my  Oomgar  were  but  with 
me  now!"  he  thought.  "How  would  his  eyes  stare  to  see 
his  friend  the  sea!" 

But  the  ^len  of  the  Mountains  were  now  bestirring 
themselves.  They  came  creeping,  lean  and  hairy,  out  of 
their  mushroom  houses.  Some  fetched  water,  some  looped 
down  over  the  brink  by  which  the  travellers  had  come  up. 
Some  clambered  up  into  little  dark  horseshoe  courts  cut 
in  the  rock  like  martins'  holes  in  sand,  and  came  down 
carrying  sacks  or  suchlike  out  of  their  nut  pantries  and 
cheese-rooms.  Some,  too,  of  the  elders  sat  combing  their 
long  beards  with  a  kind  of  teasel  that  grows  in  the  valleys, 
while  their  faint  voices  sounded  in  their  gossiping  like  hun- 
dreds of  grasshoppers  in  a  meadow.  Nod  watched  them 
curiously.  Even  the  faces  of  quite  the  puny  Mountain- 
mulgars  were  sad,  with  round  and  feeble  eyes.     And  he 

—180— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

couldn't  help  nudging  Thumb  to  look  at  these  tiny  crea- 
tures gravely  combing  their  hairy  chops — for  all  had 
whiskers,  from  the  brindled  and  grey,  whose  hair  fell  be- 
low their  knees,  to  the  mouse  and  cane  coloured  babies  ly- 
ing in  basins  or  cradles  of  Ollaconda-bark,  kicking  their 
toes  towards  the  brightening  stars. 

The  moonlight  dwelt  in  silver  on  every  crag.  And, 
like  things  so  beautiful  that  they  seem  of  another  world, 
towered  the  mountains  around  them,  clear  as  emeralds, 
and  crowned  with  never-melting  snow. 

Thimble,  when  he  awoke,  was  fevered  and  aching.  The 
heights  had  made  his  head  dizzy,  and  the  mountain  cheese 
was  sickly  and  faint.  He  lay  at  full  length,  with  wan- 
dering eyes,  refusing  to  speak.  So,  when  the  Mulla- 
moona  sent  for  the  three  travellers,  only  Thumb  and  Nod 
went  together.  He  was  old,  thin-haired  and  thick- 
skinned,  and  rather  fat  with  eating  of  cheese;  he  wore  a 
great  loose  hat  of  leopard-skin  on  his  head.  And  he 
looked  at  them  with  his  eyes  wizened  up  as  if  they  were 
creatures  of  no  account.  And  he  asked  one  of  the  Moun- 
tain-mulgars  who  stood  near.  Who  were  these  strangers, 
and  by  whose  leave  they  had  come  trespassing  on  the  hill- 
walks  of  the  Mountain-mulgars.  "Munza  is  your  coun- 
try," he  said.  "The  leaves  are  never  still  with  you,  thieves 
and  gluttons,  squealing  and  fighting  and  swinging  by  your 
tails!" 

Thumb  opened  his  mouth  at  this.  "We  are  three,  and 
you  are  many,  Old  Man  of  the  Mountains,"  he  barked, 
"but  keep  a  civil  tongue  with  us,  for  all  that.  We  are 
neither  thieves  nor  gluttons.  We  fight,  oh  yes,  when  it 
pleases  us.     But  having  no  tails,  we  do  not  swing  by  them. 

—181— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Wc  are  IMulla-mulgars,  my  brothers  and  I,  and  we  go  to 
the  kingdom  of  our  father's  brother,  Assasimnion,  Prince 
of  the  Valleys  of  Tishnar.  He  is  a  Prince,  O  Mulla- 
moona,  who  has  more  slaves  in  his  palace  and  more  Ukka- 
trees  in  the  least  of  his  seventy-seven  gardens  than  your 
royal  whiskers  have  hairs !  On,  then,  we  go!  But  be  not 
afraid,  Mulla-moona-mulgar.  We  will  leave  a  few  small 
stones  of  Arakkaboa  behind  us.  But  whether  you  will  or 
wihether  you  won't,  on  we  go  until  the  Harp  sounds. 
Then  our  Meermuts  will  Tishnar  welcome,  and  bid  wander 
over  these  her  mountains,  never  hungry,  never  thirsty, 
never  footsore,  with  sweet-smelling  lanterns  to  light  us, 
and  striped  Zevveras  to  carry  us,  and  gongs  to  make 
music.  But  if  we  live,  Chief  Mulgar  of  Kush,  we  will 
remember  your  words,  I  and  my  brother  Ummanodda 
Nizza-neela,  for  he  shall  breathe  them  into  a  little  book 
in  the  Zbaffle  Oomgar's  tongue  for  Prince  Assasimmon  to 
mock  at  in  his  Ummuz-fields." 

Nod  listened  in  wonder  to  this  palaver.  Had  he,  then, 
been  talking  in  his  sleep,  that  Thumb  knew  all  about  the 
Oomgar's  little  fat  magic-book?  The  old  Mountain- 
mulgar  sat  solemnly  blinking,  fingering  the  tassel  of  his 
long  tail.  He  was  a  doleful  and  dirty  fellow,  and  very 
sly. 

"Why,"  he  said  at  last,  "I  did  but  speak  Munza  fashion. 
Scratch  if  you  itch,  traveller.  Even  an  Utt  can  grow 
angry.  As  for  writing  my  words  in  the  Oomgar's 
tongue,  that  is  magic,  and  I  understand  it  not.  Rest  in 
the  cool  of  the  shadow  of  Kush  a  little,  and  to-morrow  my 
servants  shall  lead  you  as  far  across  Arakkaboa  as  they 
know  the  way.     But  this  I  will  tell  you :  Beyond  Zut  my 

—182— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

paths  go  not."  He  raised  his  pale  eyes  softly.  "But 
then,  Meermuts  need  no  paths,  Mulla-mulgars." 

Thumb  laughed.  "All  in  good  time,  Prince,"  he  said, 
showing  his  teeth.  "I  begin  to  get  an  itching  for  this  Zut. 
We  will  rest  only  one  day.  The  Mulla-mulgar  Thim- 
bulla  has  a  poor  stomach  for  your  green  cheese.  We  will 
journey  on  to-morrow." 

The  Mulla-moona  then  called  an  old  Mulgar  who  stood 
by,  whose  name  was  Ghibba,  and  bade  him  take  a  rope 
(that  is,  about  twenty)  of  the  Mountain-mulgars  with 
him  to  show  the  travellers  the  secret  "walks"  and  passes 
across  their  country  to  the  border  round  Zut.  "After 
that,"  he  said,  turning  sourly  to  Thumb,  "though  your 
Meermuts  were  three  hundred  and  not  three,  and  your 
Uncle,  King  Assasimmon,  had  more  palaces  than  there 
are  nuts  on  an  Ukka-tree,  I  could  help  you  no  more. 
Sulani,  O  Mulla-mulgars,  and  may  Tishnar,  before  she 
scatters  your  bones,  sweeten  your  tempers!" 

And  at  that  the  old  Mountain-man  curled  his  tail  over 
his  shoulder  and  shut  his  eyes. 

When  Thumb  and  Nod  came  into  the  great  cavern 
again  to  Thimble,  they  found  him  helpless  with  pain  and 
fever.  He  could  not  even  lift  his  head  from  his  green 
pillow.  His  eyes  glowed  in  their  bony  hollows.  And 
when  Thumb  stooped  over  him  he  screamed,  "Gunga! 
Gunga!"  as  if  in  fear. 

Thumb  turned  and  looked  at  Nod.  "We  shall  have 
to  carry  him,  Ummanodda,"  he  said.  "If  he  eats  any 
more  of  their  mouldy  nuts  and  cheese  our  brother  will  die 
in  these  wild  mountains.  They  must  be  sad  stomachs 
that  thrive  on  meat  gone  green  with  age.     And  now  the 

—183— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

physic  is  gone,  and  where  shall  we  find  more  in  these  great 
hills  of  ice?  We  must  carry  him — we  must  carry  him, 
Nodnodda." 

Then  Ghibba,  who  was  standing  near,  understanding 
a  little  of  what  Thmnb  said,  though  he  had  spoken  low  in 
Mulgar-royal,  called  four  of  his  twenty.  And  together 
they  made  a  kind  of  sling  or  hammock  or  pallet  out  of 
their  strands  of  Cullum,  and  cushioned  it  with  hair  and 
moss.  For  once  every  year  these  INIulgars  shave  all  the 
hair  off  their  bodies,  and  lie  in  chamber  until  it  is  grown 
again.  By  this  means  even  the  very  old  keep  sleek  and 
clean.  With  this  hair  they  make  a  kind  of  tippet,  also 
cushions  and  bedding  of  all  sorts.  It  is  a  curious  custom, 
but  each,  growing  up,  follows  his  father,  and  so  does  not 
perceive  its  oddness.  Into  this  litter,  then,  they  laid 
Thimble,  and  lifted  him  on  to  their  shoulders  by  ropes  at 
the  corners,  plaited  thick,  so  as  not  to  chafe  the  bearers. 
Then,  the  others  laden  with  great  faggots  of  wood  and 
torches,  bags  of  nuts  and  cheese,  and  skin  bottles  of  milk, 
they  passed  through  an  arch  in  the  wall  of  the  cavern,  and 
the  travellers  set  out  once  more.  All  the  ]Men  of  the 
Mountains  came  out  with  their  little  ones  in  the  starlight 
and  torch-flare  to  see  them  go.  Even  the  old  chief  squin- 
nied sulkily  out  of  his  hut,  and  spat  on  the  ground  when 
they  were  gone. 

The  Mulgar-path  on  the  farther  side  of  this  arch  was  so 
wide  that  here  and  there  trees  hung  over  it  with  frost- 
tasselled  branches.  And  a  rare  squabbling  the  little 
Mountain-owls  made  out  of  their  holes  in  the  rock  to  see 
the  travellers'  torches  passing  by.  First  walked  six  of  the 
Men  of  the  Mountains,  two  by  two.     Then  came  Thimble, 

—184— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

tossing  and  gibbering  on  his  litter.  Close  behind  the  litter 
followed  Ghibba,  walking  between  Thumb  and  Nod. 
And  last,  talking  all  together  in  their  thin  grasshopper 
voices,  the  other  ten  Mountain-mulgars  with  more  bags, 
more  faggots,  and  more  burning  torches.  It  was,  as  I 
have  said,  clear  and  starry  weather.  Far  below  them  the 
valleys  lay,  their  blackness  fleeced  with  mist;  high  above 
them  glittered  the  quiet  ravines  of  ice  and  snow.  So  cold 
had  it  fallen  again,  Nod  huddled  himself  close  in  his 
sheep's- jacket,  buzzing  quiet  songs  while  he  waddled  along 
with  his  stick.  So  all  night  they  walked  without  resting, 
except  to  change  the  litter-bearers. 

When  dawn  began  to  stir,  they  came  to  where  the  Mul- 
gar-path  widened  awhile.  Here  many  rock-conies  dwelt 
that  have,  as  it  were,  wings  of  skin  with  which  they  leap 
as  if  they  flew.  And  here  the  travellers  doused  their 
torches,  set  Thimble  down,  and  made  breakfast.  While 
they  all  sat  eating  together,  on  a  narrow  pass  beneath 
them  wound  by  another  of  the  long-haired  companies  of  the 
JNIen  of  the  Mountains.  From  upper  path  to  lower  was 
about  fifteen  Mulgars  deep,  for  that  is  how  they  measure 
their  heights.  All  these  Mulgars  were  laden  with  a  kind 
of  fresh  green  seaweed  heaped  up  on  their  shallow  head- 
baskets,  and  were  come  three  days'  journey  from  the  sea 
from  fetching  it.  This  seaweed  they  eat  in  their  soup, 
or  raw,  as  a  relish  or  salad.  Perhaps  they  pit  it  against 
their  cheese.  Whether  or  no,  its  salt  and  refreshing  savour 
rose  up  into  the  air  as  they  walked.  And  Nod  sniffed  it 
gladly  for  simple  friendship  and  memory  of  his  master 
Battle. 

Breakfast  done,  the  snow-bobbins  hopped  down  to  pick 

—185— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

up  the  crumbs.  These  httle  tufty  birds,  of  the  size  of  a 
plump  bull-finch,  but  pure  white,  with  coral  eyes,  hop 
among  the  JMountain-mulgar  troops  wheresoever  they  go, 
having  a  great  fancy  for  their  sour  cheese-crumbs. 

The  Men  of  the  IMountains  then  hung  up  on  their  rods 
or  staves  a  kind  of  thick  sheet  or  shadow-blanket,  as  they 
call  it,  woven  of  goats'  wool  and  Ollaconda-fibre,  under 
which  they  all  hid  themselves  from  the  glare  of  the  over- 
riding sun.  Nod,  too,  and  Thumb  sat  down  in  close  shade 
beside  Thimble's  litter,  and  slept  fitfully,  tired  out  with 
their  night-march,  but  anxious  in  the  extreme  for  their 
brother. 

Towards  a'bout  three,  as  we  should  say,  or  when  the  sun 
was  three  parts  across  his  bridge,  having  wound  up  their 
shadow-blankets  and  made  all  shipshape,  the  little  com- 
pany of  grey  and  brown  Mulgars  set  out  once  more. 
Thimble,  who  had  lain  drowsy  and  panting,  but  quiet, 
during  the  day,  now  began  to  toss  and  rave  as  if  in  fear. 
His  cries  rang  piercing  and  sorrowful  against  these  stone 
walls,  and  even  the  hairy  Mountain-men,  who  carried  him 
in  such  patience  slung  between  them,  grew  at  last  weary 
of  his  clamour,  and  shook  his  litter  when  he  cried  out,  as 
if,  indeed,  that  might  quiet  him. 

Nod  stumped  on  for  a  long  time  in  silence,  listening  to 
his  brother's  raving.  "O  Thumb,  what  should  we  do," 
he  broke  out  at  last — "what  should  we  do,  you  and  me,  if 
Thimble  died?" 

Thumb  grunted.     "Thimble  will  not  die,  little  brother." 

"But  how  can  you  know,  Thumb?  Or  do  you  say  it 
only  to  comfort  me?" 

—186— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"I  never  could  tell  how  I  know,  Ummanodda;  but  know 
I  do,  and  there's  an  end." 

"I  suppose  we  shall  get  to  Tishnar's  Valleys — in  time?" 
said  Nod,  half  to  himself. 

"The  Nizza-neela  is  downcast  with  long  travel,"  said 
Ghibba. 

"Ay,"  muttered  Thumb,  "and  being  a  Mulla-mulgar, 
he  does  not  show  it." 

Nod  turned  his  head  away,  blinked  softly,  shrugged  up 
his  jacket,  but  made  no  answer.  And  Thumb,  in  his 
kindness,  and  perhaps  to  ease  his  own  spirits,  too,  broke 
out  in  his  great  seesaw  voice  into  the  Mulgar  journey- 
song.  High  above  the  squabbling  of  the  little  Mountain- 
owls,  high  above  the  remote  thunder  of  the  surging  waters 
in  the  ravine,  into  the  clear  air  they  raised  their  hoarse 
voices  together: 

"In  Munza  a  Mulgar  once  lived  alone, 
And  his  name  it  was  Dubbuldideery,  0; 
With  none  to  love  him,  and  loved  by  none, 
His  hard  old  heart  it  grew  weary,  O, 
Weary,  O  weary,  O  weary. 

"So  he  up  with  his  cudgel,  he  on  with  his  bag 
Of  Manaka,  Ukkas,  and  Keeri,  O ; 
To  seek  for  the  waters  of  'Old-Made-Young,' 
Went  marching  old  Dubbuldideery,  O 
Dubbuldi-dubbuldi-deery. 

*'The  sun  rose  up,  and  the  sun  sank  down; 
The  moon  she  shone  clear  and  cheery,  O, 
And  the  myriads  of  Munza  they  mocked  and  mopped 
And  mobbed  old  Dubbuldideery,  O, 
Moh  Mulgar  Dubbuldideery. 
—187— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"He  cared  not  a  hair  of  his  head  did  he, 
Not  a  hint  of  the  hubbub  did  hear  he,  O, 
For  the  roar  of  the  waters  of  'Old-Made- Young' 
Kept  calhng  of  Dubbuldideery,  O, 

Call — calling  of  Dubbuldideery. 

"He  came  to  the  country  of  'Catch  Me  and  Eat  Me' — 
Not  a  fleck  of  a  flicker  did  fear  he,  O, 

For  he  knew  in  his  heart  they  could  never  make  mince-meat 
Of  tough  old  Dubbuldideery,  O, 

Rough,  tough,  gruff  Dubbuldideery. 

"He  waded  the  Ooze  of  Queen  Better-Give-Up, 
Dim,  dank,  dark,  dismal,   and  dreary,  O, 
And,  crunch !  went  a  leg  down  a  Cockadrill's  throat, 
'What's  one?'  said  Dubbuldideery,  O, 
Undauntable  Dubbuldideery. 

"He  cut  him  an  Ukka  crutch,  hobbled  along. 
Till  Tishnar's  sweet  river  came  near  he,  O — 
The  wonderful  waters  of  'Old-Made-Young,' 
A-shining  for  Dubbuldideery,  0, 

Wan,  wizened  old  Dubbuldideery. 

"He  drank,  and  he  drank — and  he  drank — and  he — drank: 
No  more  was  he  old  and  weary,  O, 
But  weak  as  a  babby  he  fell  in  the  river, 
And  drownded  was  Dubbuldideery,  O, 
Drown-ded  was  Dubbuldideery !" 

It  was  a  long  song,  and  it  lasted  a  long  time,  and  so 
many  were  the  verses,  that  at  last  even  the  Men  of  the 
Mountains  caught  up  the  crazy  Mulgar  drone  and  wheez- 
ily  joined  in,  too.  A  very  dismal  music  it  was — so  dismal, 
indeed,  that  many  of  the  eagles  who  make  their  nests  or 

—188 — 


■WITH  STICKS  AND  STAVES  AND  FLARING  TORCHES 
THEY  TURNED  ON  THE  FIERCE  BIRDS  THAT  C:AME 
SWEEPING      AM)      SWIRLING      OVV     OF     THE      DARK. 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

eyries  in  the  crevices  and  ledges  of  the  topmost  crags 
of  Arakkaboa  flew  screaming  into  the  air,  sweej^ing  on 
their  motionless  wings  between  the  stars  over  the  echoing 
precipices. 

The  travellers  had  set  to  the  last  verse  of  the  Journey- 
Song  more  lustily  than  ever,  when  of  a  sudden  one  of 
these  eagles,  crested,  and  bronze  in  the  torchlight,  swooped 
so  close  in  its  anger  of  the  voices  that  it  swept  off  Thumb's 
wool  hat.  In  his  haste  he  heedlessly  struck  at  the  shin- 
ing bird  with  his  staff  or  cudgel.  Its  scream  rose  sudden 
and  piercing  as  it  soared,  dizzily  wheeling  in  its  anger,  at 
evens  with  the  glassy  peak  of  Kush.  Too  late  the  Men 
of  the  Mountains  cried  out  on  Thumb  to  beware.  In  an 
instant  the  night  was  astir,  the  air  forked  with  wings. 
From  every  peak  the  eagles  swooped  upon  the  Mulgars. 
And  soon  the  travellers  were  fighting  wildly  to  beat  them 
off.  They  hastily  laid  poor  Thimble  down  in  his  sling  and 
covered  up  his  eyes  from  the  tumult  with  a  shadow-blanket. 
And  with  sticks  and  staves  and  flaring  torches  they  turned 
on  the  fierce  birds  that  came  sweeping  and  swirling  out  of 
the  dark  upon  them  on  bristling  feathers,  with  ravening 
beaks  and  talons.  But  against  Thumb  the  eagles  fought 
most  angrily  for  his  insult  to  their  Prince,  hovering  with 
piercing  battle-cry,  their  huge  wings  beating  a  dreadful 
wind  upon  his  cowering  head.  Nod,  while  he  himself 
was  buffeting,  ducking  and  dodging,  could  hear  Thumb 
breathing  and  coughing  and  raining  blows  with  his  great 
cudgel.  The  moon  was  now  sliding  towards  the  mouth 
of  Solmi's  Valley,  and  her  beams  streamed  aslant  on  the 
hosts  of  the  birds.  Wherever  Nod  looked,  the  air  was 
aflock  with  eagles.     His  hand  was  torn  and  bleeding,  a 

— 189— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

great  piece  of  his  sheep's- jacket  had  been  plucked  out,  and 
still  those  moon-gilded  wings  swooped  into  the  torchlight, 
beaks  snapped  almost  in  his  face,  and  talons  clutched  at 
him. 

Suddenly  a  scream  rose  shrill  above  all  the  din  around 
him.  For  a  moment  the  birds  hung  hovering,  and  then 
Nod  perceived  one  of  the  biggest  of  the  eagles  struggling 
in  mid-air  with  something  stretched  and  wrestling  upon 
its  back.  It  was  a  Man  of  the  Mountains  floating  there 
in  space,  while  the  maddened  eagle  rose  and  fell,  and 
poised  itself,  and  shook  and  beat  its  wings,  vainly  striving 
to  tear  him  off.  And  now  many  other  of  the  eagles 
wheeled  off  from  the  Mulgars  and  swept  in  frenzy  to  and 
fro  over  this  struggling  horse  and  rider,  darting  upon 
them,  beating  the  dying  Mulgar  with  their  wings,  scream- 
ing their  war-song,  until  at  last,  gradually,  lower  and 
lower  they  all  sank  out  of  the  moonlight  into  the  shadow 
of  the  valley,  and  were  lost  to  sight.  The  few  birds  that 
remained  were  soon  beaten  off.  Five  lay  dead  in  their 
beautiful  feathers  on  the  pass.  And  the  breathless  and 
bleeding  Mulgars  gathered  together  on  this  narrow  shelf 
of  the  precipice  to  bind  up  their  wounds  and  rest  and 
eat.  But  three  of  them  were  nowhere  to  be  found.  They 
made  no  answer,  though  their  friends  called  and  called, 
again  and  again,  in  their  shrill  reedy  voices.  For  one  in 
fighting  had  stumbled  and  toppled  over,  torch  in  hand, 
from  the  path,  one  had  been  slit  up  by  an  eagle's  claw, 
and  one  had  been  carried  off  by  the  eagles. 


-190— 


CHAPTER  XVI 


And  now  that  the  moon  was  near  her  setting,  dark  grew 
the  ah'.  The  Men  of  the  Mountains  had  at  last  ceased  to 
call  their  lost  companions,  and  on  either  side  of  the  path 
were  breaking  up  their  faggots  and  building  fires,  leaving 
two  wide  spaces  beneath  the  beetling  rock  for  their  en- 
campment between  the  fires.  Nod,  sitting  beside  Thim- 
ble's litter,  watched  them  for  some  time,  and  presently 
he  fancied  he  heard  a  distant  howling,  not  from  the  dark- 
ness below,  but  seemingly  from  the  heights  above  the 
Mulgar-pass.  He  rose  and  limped  along  to  Ghibba,  who 
was  busy  about  the  fires.  "Why  are  you  heaping  up  such 
large  fires?"  he  said,  "and  whose,  Man  of  the  Moun- 
tains, are  those  bowlings  I  heard  from  the  mountain- 
tops?" 

Ghibba's  face  was  scorched  and  bleeding;  one  of  his 
long  eyebrows  was  nearly  torn  off.  "The  fires  and  the 
howls  are  cousins,  little  Mulgar,"  he  said.  "The  screams 
of  the  golden-folk  have  roused  the  wolves,  and  if  we  do 

—191— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

not  light  big  fires  they  will  come  down  in  packs  along 
their  secret  paths  to  devour  us.  It  is  a  good  thing  to 
fight  bravely,  but  it's  a  better  not  to  have  to  fight  at 
all." 

Nod  came  back  and  told  this  news  to  Thumb,  who  was 
sitting  with  a  great  strip  of  his  jacket  bound  round  his 
head  like  a  Turk's  turban.  "It  is  good  news,  brother," 
he  said — "it  is  good  news.  What  stories  we  shall  have 
to  tell  when  we  are  old !" 

"But  two  of  the  hairy  ones  are  dead,"  said  Nod,  "and 
one  is  slipping,  they  say,  from  his  second  sleep." 

"Then,"  said  Thumb,  looking  softly  over  the  valley, 
"they  need  fight  no  more." 

Nod  sat  down  again  beside  Thimble's  litter  and  touched 
his  hand.  It  was  dry  and  burning  hot.  He  heard  him 
gabbling,  gabbling  on  and  on  to  himself,  and  every  now 
and  again  he  would  start  up  and  gaze  fixedly  into  the 
night.  "No,  Thimble,  no,"  Nod  would  say.  "Lie  back, 
my  brother.  It  is  neither  the  Harp-strings  nor  our  fath- 
er's Zevveras ;  it  is  only  the  little  mountain-wolves  barking 
at  the  icicles." 

On  either  side  of  their  camping-place  he  heard  yelp 
answering  to  yelp,  and  then  a  long-drawn  howl  far  above 
his  head.  He  began  to  think,  too,  he  could  see,  as  it  were, 
small  green  and  golden  marshlights  wandering  along 
the  little  paths.  And,  watching  them  where  he  sat  quietly 
on  his  heels  in  a  little  hollow  of  the  rock,  it  brought  back, 
as  if  this  were  but  a  dream  he  was  in,  the  twangle  of 
Battle's  Juddie,  the  restless  fretting  and  howling  of  Im- 
manala's  Jaccatrays.  As  the  Moona-mulgar's  fires 
mounted  higher,  great  shadows  sprang  trembling  up  the 

—192— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

mountains,  and  tongues  of  flame  cast  vague  shafts  of 
light  across  the  shadowy  abyss ;  while,  stuck  along  the  wall 
in  sconces  of  the  rock,  a  dozen  torches  smoked. 

Thumb  grunted.  "  They'd  burn  all  Munza  up  with 
fires  like  these,"  he  muttered.  "Little  wolves  need  only 
little  fires."  But  Thumb  did  not  know  the  ferocity  of 
these  small  mountain-wolves.  They  are  meagre  and 
wrinkle-faced,  with  prick  ears  and  rather  bushy  tails.  In 
winter  they  grow  themselves  thick  coats  as  white  as  snow, 
except  upon  their  legs,  which  are  short-haired  and  gi'ey, 
with  long  tapping  claws.  And  they  are  fearless  and  very 
cunning  creatures.  Nod  could  now  see  them  plainly  in 
the  nodding  flamelight,  couched  on  their  haunches  a  few 
paces  beyond  the  fires,  and  along  the  galleries  above,  with 
gleaming  eyes,  scores  and  scores  of  them.  And  now 
the  eagles  were  returning  to  their  eyries  from  their  feast- 
ing in  the  valley,  and  though  they  swept  up  through  the 
air  mewing  and  peering,  they  dared  not  draw  near  to  the 
great  blaze  of  fire  and  torch,  but  screamed  as  they 
ascended,  one  to  the  other,  until  the  wolves  took  up  an 
answer,  barking  hard  and  short,  or  with  long  mournful 
ululation. 

When  at  last  they  fell  quiet,  then  the  Men  of  the  Moun- 
tains began  wailing  again  for  their  lost  comrades.  They 
sit  with  their  eyes  shut,  resting  on  their  long  narrow  hands, 
their  faces  to  the  wall,  and  sing  through  their  noses.  First 
one  takes  up  a  high  lamentable  note,  then  another,  and  so 
on,  faster  and  faster,  for  all  the  world  like  a  faint  and  dis- 
tant wind  in  the  hills,  until  all  the  voices  clash  together, 
"Tish — naehr!"  Then,  in  a  little,  breaks  out  the  shrillest 
in  solo  again,  and  so  they  continue  till  they  weary. 

—193— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Nod  listened,  his  face  in  his  hands,  but  so  faint  and  fast 
sang  the  voices  he  could  only  catch  here  and  there  the 
words  of  their  drone,  if  words  there  were.  He  touched 
Thumb's  shoulder.  "These  hairy  fellows  are  singing  of 
Tishnar!"  he  said. 

Thumb  grunted,  half  asleep. 

"Who  taught  them  of  Tishnar?"  Nod  asked  softly. 

Thumb  turned  angrily  over.  "Oh,  child!"  he  growled, 
"will  you  never  learn  wisdom?  Sleep  while  you  can,  and 
let  Thumb  sleep  too!  To-morrow  we  may  be  fighting 
again." 

But  though  the  Ladder-mulgars  soon  ceased  to  wail, 
and,  except  for  two  who  were  left  to  keep  watch  and  to 
feed  the  fires,  laid  themselves  down  to  sleep.  Nod  could  not 
rest.  The  mountains  rose  black  and  unutterably  still  be- 
neath the  stars.  Up  their  steep  sides  enormous  shadows 
jigged  around  the  fires.  Sometimes  an  eagle  squawked  on 
high,  nursing  its  wounds.  And  whether  he  turned  this 
way  or  that  way  he  still  saw  the  little  wolves  huddled  close 
together,  their  pointed  heads  laid  on  their  lean  paws,  un- 
easily watching.  And  he  longed  for  morning.  For  his 
heart  lay  like  a  stone  in  him  in  grief  for  his  brother  Thim- 
ble. A  little  dry  snow  harboured  in  the  crevices  of  the 
rocks.  He  filled  his  hands  with  it,  and  laid  it  on  poor 
Thimble's  head  and  moistened  his  lips.  Then  he  walked 
softly  along  past  the  sleeping  Mulgars  towards  the  fire. 

Where  should  we  all  be  now,  he  thought,  if  the  eagles 
had  come  in  the  morning?  On  paths  narrow  as  those 
there  was  not  even  room  enough  to  brandish  a  cudgel. 
The  fire-watcher  raised  his  sad  countenance  and  peered 
through  his  hair  at  Nod. 

—194— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"What  is  it  in  your  mouldy  cheese,  Man  of  the  Moun- 
tains, that  has  poisoned  my  brother?"  said  Nod. 

The  Mulgar  shook  his  head.  "Maybe  it  is  something 
in  the  Mulla-mulgar,"  he  answered.  "It  is  very  good 
cheese." 

"Will  morning  soon  be  here?"  said  Nod,  gazing  into 
the  fire. 

The  Mulgar  smiled.  "When  night  is  gone,"  he  an- 
swered. 

"Why  do  these  mountain-wolves  fear  fire?"  asked  Nod. 

The  Mulgar  shook  his  head.  "Questions,  royal  travel- 
ler, are  easier  than  answers,"  he  said.     "They  do." 

He  caught  up  a  firebrand,  and  threw  it  with  all  his 
strength  beyond  the  fire.  It  fell  sputtering  on  the  ledge, 
and  instantly  there  rose  such  a  yelping  and  snarling  the 
chasm  re-echoed.  Yet  so  brave  are  these  snow-wolves  one 
presently  came  venturing  pitapat,  pitapat,  along  the  frosty 
gallery,  and  very  warily,  with  the  tip  of  his  paw,  poked 
and  pushed  at  it  until  the  burning  stick  toppled  and  fell 
over,  down,  down,  down,  down,  till,  a  gliding  spark,  it 
vanished  into  the  torrent  below.  The  Mountain-mulgar 
looked  back  over  his  shoulder  at  Nod,  but  said  nothing. 

Nod's  eyes  went  wandering  from  head  to  head  of  the 
shadowy  pack.  "Is  it  far  now  to  my  uncle.  Prince  As- 
sasimmon's?     Is  it  far  to  the  Valleys?"  he  said  in  a  while. 

"Only  to  the  other  side  of  death,"  said  the  watchman. 
"Come  Noomanossi,  we  shall  walk  no  more." 

"Do  you  mean,  O  INIan  of  the  INIountains,"  said  Nod, 
catching  his  breath,  "that  we  shall  never,  never  get  there 
alive?"  The  watchman  hobbled  over  and  threw  an  arm- 
ful of  wood  on  to  the  fire. 

—195— 


THE  THREE  MULL A-MUL GARS 

"  'Never'  shares  a  big  bed  with  'Once,'  JNIulla-mulgar," 
he  said,  raking  the  embers  together  with  a  long  forked 
stick.     "But  we  have  no  Magic." 

Nod  stared.  Should  he  tell  this  dull  ]\Ian  of  the  Moun- 
tains to  think  no  more  of  death,  seeing  that  he,  Um- 
manodda  himself,  had  magic?  Should  he  let  him  dazzle 
his  eyes  one  little  moment  with  his  Wonderstone?  He 
fumbled  in  the  pocket  of  his  sheep-skin  coat,  stopped, 
fumbled  again.  His  hair  rose  stiff  on  his  scalp.  He 
shivered,  and  then  grew  burning  hot.  He  searched  and 
searched  again.  The  Mulgar  eyed  him  sorrowfully. 
"What  ails  you,  O  nephew  of  a  great  King?"  he  said  in 
his  faint,  high  voice.     "Fleas?" 

Nod  stared  at  him  with  flaming  eyes.  He  could  not 
think  nor  speak.  His  Wonderstone  was  gone.  He 
turned,  dropped  on  his  fours,  sidled  noiselessly  back  to 
Thimble's  litter,  and  sat  down. 

How  had  he  lost  it?  When?  Where?  And  in  a  flash 
came  back  to  his  outwearied,  aching  head  remembrance  of 
how,  in  the  height  of  the  eagle-fighting,  there  had  come 
the  plunge  of  a  lean,  gaping  beak  and  the  sudden  rending 
of  his  coat.  Vanished  for  ever  was  Tishnar's  Wonder- 
stone, then.  The  Valleys  faded,  Noomanossi  drew 
near. 

He  sat  there  with  chattering  teeth,  his  little  skull  crouch- 
ing in  his  wool,  worn  out  with  travel  and  sleeplessness,  and 
the  tears  sprang  scalding  into  his  eyes.  What  would 
Thumb  say  now?  he  thought  bitterly.  What  hope  was 
left  for  Thimble?  He  dared  not  wake  them,  but  stooped 
there  like  a  little  bowed  old  man,  utterly  forlorn.  And 
so  sitting,  cunning  Sleep,  out  of  the  silence  and  darkness 

—196— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

of  Arakkaboa,  came  softly  hovering  above  the  troubled 
Nizza-neela ;  he  fell  into  a  shallow  slumber.  And  in  this 
witching  slumber  he  dreamed  a  dream. 

He  dreamed  it  was  time  gone  by,  and  that  he  was  sitting 
on  his  log  again  with  his  master,  Battle,  just  as  they  used 
to  sit,  beside  their  fire.  And  the  Oomgar  had  a  great  flat 
book  covering  his  knees.  Nod  could  see  the  book  marvel- 
lously clearly  in  his  dream — a  big  book,  white  as  a  dried 
palm-leaf,  that  stretched  across  the  sailor  knee  to  knee. 
And  the  sailor  was  holding  a  little  stick  in  his  hand,  and 
teaching  him,  as  he  used  in  a  kind  of  sport  to  do,  his  own 
strange  "Ningllish"  tongue.  Before,  however,  the  sailor 
had  taught  the  little  Mulgar  only  in  words,  by  sound,  never 
in  letters,  by  sight.  But  now  in  Nod's  dream  Battle  was 
pointing  with  his  little  prong,  and  the  Mulgar  saw  a  big 
straddle-legged  black  thing  in  the  book  strutting  all  across 
the  page. 

"Now,"  said  the  Oomgar,  and  his  voice  sounded  small 
but  clear,  "what's  that,  my  son?" 

But  Nod  in  his  dream  shook  his  head ;  he  had  never  seen 
the  strange  shape  before. 

"Why,  that's  old  'A,'  that  is,"  said  Battle;  "and  what 
did  old  straddle-legs  'A'  go  for  to  do?  What  did  'A'  do, 
Nod  Mulgar?" 

And  Nod  thought  a  voice  answered  out  of  his  own 
mouth  and  said:     "A  .  .  .  Yapple-pie." 

"Brayvo!"  cried  the  Oomgar.  And  there,  sure  enough, 
filling  plump  the  dog's-eared  page,  was  a  great  dish  some- 
thing like  a  gourd  cut  in  half,  with  smoke  floating  up 
from  a  little  hole  in  the  middle. 

"A — Apple-pie,"  repeated  the  sailor;  "and  I  wish  we 

—197— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

had  hini  here,  Master  Ponga.  And  now,  what's  this 
here?"     He  turned  the  page. 

Nod  seemed  in  his  dream  to  stand  and  to  stare  at  the 
odd  double-bellied  shape,  with  its  long  straight  back,  but 
in  vain.  "Bless  ye,  Nod  Mulgar,"  said  Battle  in  his 
dream,  "that's  old  Buzz-buzz;  that's  that  old  garden-rob- 
ber—that's 'B.'  " 

"  'B,'  "  squealed  Nod. 

"And  'B' — he  bit  it,"  said  Battle,  clashing  his  small 
white  teeth  together  and  laughing,  as  he  turned  the  page. 

Next  in  the  dream-book  came  a  curled  black  fish,  sit- 
ting looped  up  on  its  tail.  And  that,  the  Oomgar  told 
him,  leaning  forward  in  the  firelight,  was  "C";  that  was 
"C" — crying,  clawing,  clutching,  and  croaking  for  it. 

Nod  thought  in  his  dream  that  he  loved  learning,  and 
loved  Battle  teaching  him,  but  that  at  the  word  "croak- 
ing" he  looked  up  wondering  into  the  sailor's  face,  with  a 
kind  of  waking  stir  in  his  mind.  What  was  this  "it"? 
What  could  this  "it"  be — hidden  in  the  puffed-out,  smok- 
ing pie  that  "B"  bit,  and  "C"  cried  for,  and  swollen  "D" 
dashed  after?  And  .  .  .  over  went  another  crackling 
page.  .  .  .  The  Oomgar's  face  seemed  strangely  hairy  in 
Nod's  dream;  no,  not  hairy — tufty,  feathery;  and  so  loud 
and  shrill  he  screamed  "E,"  Nod  all  but  woke  up. 

"  'E,'  "  squeaked  Nod  timidly  after  him. 

"And  what — what — what  did  'E'  do?"  screamed  the 
Oomgar. 

But  now  even  in  his  dream  Nod  knew  it  was  not  the  be- 
loved face  of  his  sailor  Zbaffle,  but  an  angry,  keen-beaked, 
clamouring,  swooping  Eagle  that  was  asking  him  the 
question,  "  'E,'  'E,'  'E'— what  did  'E'  do?"     And  clipped 

—198— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

in  the  corner  of  its  beak  dangled  a  thread,  a  shred  of  his 
sheep's- jacket.  What  ever,  ever  did  "E"  do?  puzzled  in 
vain  poor  Nod,  with  that  dreadful  face  glinting  almost  in 
touch  with  his. 

"Dunce!  Dunce!"  squalled  the  bird.  " 'E'  ate 
it.  .  .  ." 

"E  .  .  .  ate  it,"  seemed  to  be  still  faintly  echoing  on  his 
ear  in  the  darkness  when  Nod  found  himself  wide  awake 
and  bolt  upright,  his  face  cold  and  matted  with  sweat,  yet 
with  a  heat  and  eagerness  in  his  heart  he  had  never  known 
before.  He  scrambled  up  and  crept  along  in  the  rosy 
firelight  till  he  came  to  the  five  dead  eagles.  Their  car- 
casses lay  there  with  frosty  feathers  and  fast-sealed  eyes. 
From  one  to  another  he  crept  slowly,  scarcely  able  to 
breathe,  and  turned  the  carcasses  over.  Over  the  last 
he  stooped,  and — a  flock,  a  thread  of  sheep's  wool  dangled 
from  its  clenched  black  beak.  Nod  dragged  it,  stiff  and 
frozen,  nearer  the  fire,  and  with  his  knife  slit  open  the 
deep-black,  shimmering  neck,  and  there,  wrapped  damp 
and  dingily  in  its  scrap  of  Oomgar-paper,  his  fingers 
clutched  the  Wonderstone.  He  hastily  wrapped  it  up, 
just  as  it  was,  in  the  flock  of  wool,  and  thrust  it  deep 
into  his  other  pocket,  and  with  trembling  fingers  buttoned 
the  flap  over  it.  Then  he  went  softly  back  to  his  brothers, 
and  slept  in  peace  till  morning. 


-199- 


CHAPTER  XVII 


When  he  awoke,  bright  day  was  on  the  mountains.  The 
httle  snow-wolves  had  slunk  back  to  their  holes  and  lairs. 
The  fires  burned  low.  And  Thimble  lay  in  a  sleep  so 
quiet  and  profound  it  seemed  to  Nod  the  heart  beneath  the 
sharp-ribbed  chest  was  scarcely  stirring.  It  was  bitter  cold 
on  these  heights  in  the  sunlessness  of  morning.  And  Nod 
was  glad  to  sit  himself  down  beside  one  of  the  wood-fires 
to  eat  his  breakfast  of  nuts,  and  swallow  a  suppet  or  two  of 
the  thawed  Mulgar-milk.  But  the  Men  of  the  Mountains 
had  plucked  and  roasted  the  eagles,  and  were  squatting, 
with  not  quite  such  doleful  faces  as  usual,  picking  with 
pointed,  rather  catlike  teeth,  the  bones. 

Nod  could  not  help  watching  them  under  his  eyebrows, 
where  they  sat,  with  tail-tufts  over  their  shoulders,  in 
their  fleecy  hair,  blinking  mildly  from  their  pale  pink 
eyes.  For,  though  here  and  there  may  be  seen  a  Moun- 
tain-mulgar  with  eyes  blue  as  the  turquoise,  by  far  the 

—200— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

most  of  them  have  pink,  and  some  ( but  these  are  what  the 
Oomgar-nuggas  would  call  Witch-doctors,  or  Fulbies) 
have  one  of  either.  They  looked  timid  and  feeble  enough, 
these  Moona-mulgars,  yet  with  what  fearless  fury  had  they 
fought  with  the  eagles !  How  swiftly  they  shambled  dim- 
sighted  along  these  wrinkled  precipices!  Some  even  now 
were  seated  on  the  rocky  verge  as  easily  as  a  Skeeto  in  its 
tree-top,  their  lean  shanks  dangling  over.  But  they 
nibbled  and  tugged  at  their  slender  bird-bones,  and  peered 
and  waved  their  long  arms  in  faint  talk;  though,  as  their 
watchman  had  told  Nod  in  the  firelight,  they  knew  they 
were  all  within  earshot  of  the  Harp. 

Ghibba  was  sitting  a  little  away  from  the  others,  eat- 
ing with  his  eyes  shut. 

"Are  you  so  sleepy.  Prince  of  the  Mountains,  that  you 
keep  your  eyes  shut  in  broad  day?"  said  Nod. 

Ghibba  wagged  his  head.  "No,  Mulla-mulgar,  I  am 
not  sleepy;  but  one  eye  is  scorched  with  the  fire  and  one 
a  little  angry  with  the  eagles,  so  that  I  can  scarcely  see 
at  all." 

"Not  blind?"  said  Nod. 

Ghibba  opened  his  eyes,  red  and  glittering.  "Nay, 
twilight,  not  night,  little  Mulgar,"  he  answered  cheer- 
fully. "I  see  no  more  of  you  than  a  little  brown  cloud 
against  black  mountains." 

"But  how  will  you  walk  on  these  narrow,  icy  shelves?" 
said  Nod. 

"Why,"  says  he,  "I  have  a  tail,  Mulgar-royal ;  and  my 
people  must  lead  me.  .  .  .  What  of  the  morning,  Nizza- 
neela?" 

"It  is  bright  as  hoarfrost  on  the  slopes  and  tops  there," 

—201— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

said  Nod,  pointing.  "It  dazzles  Ummanodda's  eyes  to 
look.  But  the  sun  is  behind  this  huge  black  wall  of  ours, 
so  here  we  sit  cold  in  the  shadow." 

"Then  we  will  wait,"  said  Ghibba,  "till  he  come  walk- 
ing a  little  higher  to  melt  the  frost  and  drive  away  the 
last  of  the  wolves." 

"JNIan  of  the  Mountains,"  said  Nod  presently,  "would 
you  hold  me  if  I  crept  close  and  put  my  head  over  the 
edge?  I  would  like  to  see  how  many  Mulgars-deep  we 
walk." 

Ghibba  laughed.  "This  path  is  but  as  other  Mulgar- 
paths,  Mulla-mulgar ;  no  traveller  need  stumble  twice. 
But  I  will  do  as  you  ask  me." 

So  Nod  lay  down  flat  on  his  stomach,  while  two  of 
the  Mountain-mulgars  clutched  each  a  leg.  He  wriggled 
forward  till  head  and  shoulders  hung  beyond  the  margent 
of  the  rock.  He  shut  his  eyes  a  moment  against  that  ter- 
rific steep  of  air,  and  the  huge  shadow  of  the  mountain 
upon  the  deep  blue  forest.  All  far  beneath  was  still  dark 
with  night;  only  the  frozen  waters  of  the  swirling  torrent 
palely  reflected  the  daybreak  sky.  But  suddenly  he  shot 
out  a  lean  brown  paw.     "Ahoh,  ahoh !  I  say !" 

The  Men  of  the  Mountains  dragged  him  back  so  roughly 
that  his  broad  snub  nose  was  scraped  on  the  stone.  "Why 
do  you  do  that?"  he  said  angrily. 

"You  called  'O,  O!'  Mulla-mulgar,  and  we  thought  you 
were  afraid." 

"Afraid!  Nod?  No!"  said  Nod.  "What  is  there  to 
be  afraid  of?" 

Ghibba  twitched  his  long  grey  eyebrow.  "The  little 
Mulgar  asks  us  riddles,"  he  said. 

—202— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

*T  called,"  said  Nod,  "because  I  spy  something  jutting 
there  with  a  fluff  of  hair  in  the  wind  that  leaps  the  chasm, 
and  with  thin  ends  that  look  to  me  like  the  arms  and  legs 
of  a  Man  of  the  Mountains  lying  caught  in  a  bush  of 
Tummusc." 

At  the  sound  of  Nod's  "Ahoh!"  Thumb  had  come 
scrambling  along  from  the  other  fire,  and  many  of  the 
Mountain-mulgars  fell  flat  on  their  faces,  and  leaned 
peering  over  the  precipice.  But  their  eyes  were  too  dim 
to  pierce  far.     They  broke  into  shrill,  eager  whisperings. 

"It  is,  perhaps,  a  wisp  of  snow,  an  eagle's  feather,  or 
maybe  a  nosegay  of  frost-flowers." 

"What  was  the  name  of  him  who  fell  fighting?"  said 
Nod  eagerly. 

"His  name  was  Ubbookeera,"  said  Ghibba. 

"Then,"  said  Nod,  "there  he  hangs." 

"So  be  it,  Eyes-of-an-Eagle,"  said  Ghibba;  "we  will  go 
down  before  he  melts  and  fetch  him  up."  So  they  drove 
two  of  their  long  staves  into  a  crevice  of  the  rocks.  And 
Ghibba,  being  one  of  the  strongest  of  them,  and  also  nearly 
blind,  crept  to  the  end  and  unwound  himself  down;  then 
one  by  one  the  rest  of  the  Mountain-mulgars  descended, 
till  the  last  and  least  was  gone. 

"Hold  my  legs.  Thumb,  my  brother,  that  I  may  see 
what  they're  at,"  said  Nod.  Thumb  clutched  him  tight, 
and  Nod  edged  on  his  stomach  to  the  end  of  the  bending 
pole.  He  saw  far  down  the  grey  string  of  the  Men  of 
the  Mountains  dangling,  but  even  the  last  of  them  was 
still  twenty  or  thirty  Mulgars  off  the  Tummusc-bush.  He 
heard  their  shrill  chirping.  And  presently  the  first  sun- 
beam trembled  over  the  wall  of  the  mountain  above  them, 

—203— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

and  beamed  clear  into  the  valley.  Nod  wriggled  back 
to  Thumb.  "They  cannot  reach  him,"  he  said.  "He 
lies  there  huddled  up,  Thumb,  in  a  Tummusc-bush,  just  as 
he  fell." 

"Why,  then,"  said  Thumb,  "he  must  have  hung  dead  all 
night.     The  eagles  will  have  picked  his  eyes  out." 

In  a  little  while  the  last  and  least  of  the  INIountain- 
mulgars  crept  back  over  Ghibba's  shoulders  and  scrambled 
on  to  the  path.  He  was  a  little  blinking  fellow,  and  in 
colour  patched  like  damask. 

"Is  he  dead?  Is  he  dead?  Is  thy  'Messimut'  dead?" 
said  Nod,  leaning  his  head. 

"He  is  dead,  Mulla-mulgar,  or  in  his  second  sleep,"  he 
answered. 

Now,  all  the  Mulgar  beads  on  that  strange  string  stood 
whispering  and  noddmg  together.  Ghibba  presently 
turned  away  from  them,  and  began  raking  back  the  last 
smoulderings  of  their  watch-fire. 

"What  will  you  do?"  said  Nod.  "Whj^  do  you  drag 
back  the  embers?" 

"The  swiftest  of  us  is  going  back  to  bring  a  longer 
'rope'  and  stronger  staves  and  Samarak,  and,  alive  or 
dead,  they  will  drag  him  up.  But  we  go  on,  Mulla-mul- 
gar." 

"Ohe,"  said  Nod  softly;  "but  will  he  not  be  melted  by 
then,  Prince  of  the  Mountains?  AVill  not  the  eagle's 
feather  be  blown  away?  Will  not  the  frost  flowers  have 
melted  from  the  bush?" 

Ghibba  turned  his  grave,  hairy  face  to  Nod. 

"The  Men  of  the  Mountains  will  remember  you  in  their 
drones,  Mulla-mulgar,  for  saving  the  life  of  their  kins- 

—204— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

man;  they  will  call  you  in  their  singing  'Mulla-mulgar 
Eengenares'  " — that  is,  Royal-mulgar  with  the  Eyes  of 
an  Eagle. 

Nod  laughed.  "Already  am  I  in  my  brothers'  thoughts 
Prince  of  Bonfires,  Noddle  of  Pork;  if  only  I  could  see 
through  Zut,  they  also  might  call  me  Eengenares,  too." 

All  were  in  haste  now,  binding  up  what  remained  of 
faggots  and  torches,  combing  and  beating  themselves  and 
quenching  the  fires.  Soon  the  Mulgar  who  had  been 
chosen  to  return  had  rubbed  noses  and  bidden  them  all 
farewell,  and  had  set  out  on  his  lonely  journey  home. 
Thimble  still  lay  in  a  deep  sleep,  and  so  cold  after  the 
heats  of  fever  that  they  had  to  muffle  him  twice  or  thrice 
in  shadow-blankets  to  regain  his  warmth. 

When  they  had  trudged  on  a  league  or  so  the  day  be- 
gan to  darken  with  cloud.  And  a  thin  smoke  began  to 
fume  up  from  below.  The  travellers  pressed  on  in  all 
haste,  so  fast  that  the  tongues  of  the  bearers  of  Thimble's 
litter  lolled  between  their  teeth.  Wind  rose  in  scurries, 
and  every  peak  was  shrouded.  Unnatural  gloom  thick- 
ened around  the  lean,  straggling  troop  of  Mulgars.  And 
almost  before  they  had  time  to  drive  in  their  long  poles,  as 
shepherds  drive  in  posts  for  their  wattles,  and  to  swathe 
and  bind  themselves  close  into  the  sloping  rock,  the  tem- 
pest broke  over  them.  A  dense  and  tossing  cloud  of  ice 
beat  up  on  the  wind,  so  that  soon  the  huddled  travellers 
looked  like  nothing  else  than  a  long  low  mound  on  the 
Mulgar  pass,  heaped  high  with  the  drifting  crystals.  On 
every  peak  and  crest  the  lightning  played  blue  and  crack- 
ling. In  its  flash  the  air  hung  still,  bewitched  with  snow- 
flakes.     Thunder  and  wind  made  such  a  clamour  between 

—205— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

them  that  Nod  could  scarcely  hear  himself  think.  But  the 
travellers  sat  mute  and  glum,  and  moved  never  a  finger. 
Such  storms  sweep  like  wild  birds  through  these  moun- 
tains of  Arakkaboa,  and,  like  birds,  are  as  quickly  flown 
away.  For  in  a  little  while  all  was  peace  again  and  silence. 
And  the  sun  broke  in  flames  out  of  the  pale  sky,  shining  in 
peaceful  beauty  upon  the  mountains,  as  if,  indeed,  the 
snow-white  Zevveras  of  Tishnar  had  passed  by. 

The  travellers  soon  beat  each  other  free  of  their  snow, 
and  danced  and  slapped  themselves  warm.  And  now  they 
were  rejoiced  to  see  in  the  distant  clearness  peeping  above 
the  shoulder  of  Makkri  that  league-long  needle  Moot. 
The  pass  now  began  to  widen,  and  a  little  before  noonday 
they  broke  out  into  a  broad  and  steep  declivity  of  snow. 
And,  seeing  that  they  had  but  lately  rested  themselves, 
and  soon  would  be  journeying  in  shelter  from  the  sun,  they 
did  not  tarry  for  their  "glare,"  or  middle-day  sleep. 

Their  breath  hung  like  smoke  on  the  icy  air.  They 
sank  at  every  step  wellnigh  up  to  their  middles  in  snow, 
and  were  all  but  wearied  out  when  at  last  they  climbed 
up  into  a  gorge  cut  sheer  between  bare  walls  of  rock,  and 
so  lofty  on  either  hand  that  daylight  scarcely  trembled 
down  to  them  at  the  bottom. 

So  steep  and  glazed  with  ice  was  this  gorge  or  gully 
that  they  were  compelled  to  tie  themselves  together  with 
strands  of  Cullum.  They  laid  Thimble's  litter  on  three 
long  pieces  of  wood  strapped  together.  Then,  Ghibba 
going  foremost,  one  by  one  they  followed  the  ascent  after 
him,  stumbling  and  staggering,  and  heaving  at  the  Cul- 
lum-rope  to  drag  up  poor  Thimble  on  his  slippery  bed. 

The  Men  of  the  Mountains  have  bristly  feet  and  long, 

r-206— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

hairy,  hard-nailed  toes.  But  Thumb  and  Nod,  with  their 
naked  soles  and  shorter  toes,  could  scarcely  clutch  the 
icy  path  at  all,  and  fell  so  often  they  were  soon  stiff  with 
bruises.  Worse  still,  there  frequents  in  the  upper  parts 
of  these  mountains  a  kind  of  witless  or  silly  Mulgars, 
who  are  called  Obobbomans,  with  very  long  noses.  And 
just  as  men  use  a  spyglass  for  sight,  to  magnify  things 
and  to  bring  things  at  a  distance  nearer,  so  these  Obob- 
bomans use  their  prolonged  noses  for  smell.  Long  be- 
fore Thumb  and  his  company  were  come  to  their  precipi- 
tous gully  they  had  sniffed  them  out.  And,  being  as  mis- 
chievous as  they  are  dull-witted,  they  had  already  scam- 
pered about,  gathering  together  great  heaps  of  stones,  and 
had  now  set  themselves  in  a  row,  sniffing  and  chattering, 
along  the  edge  of  the  rock  on  both  sides,  and  waited  there 
concealed  in  ambush. 

When  the  Men  of  the  Mountains  had  climbed  up  some 
little  way  into  the  gorge,  and  were  scrambling  and  stum- 
bling on  the  ice,  these  Obobbomans  began  pelting  them  as 
fast  as  they  could  with  their  stones  and  snowballs  and 
splinters  of  ice.  These  missiles,  though  not  very  large, 
fell  heavily  down  the  walls  of  the  precipice.  And  soon 
the  whole  caravan  of  Mulgars  was  brought  to  a  stand- 
still, they  were  so  battered  and  bewildered  by  the 
stones. 

As  soon  as  the  travellers  stopped,  these  knavish  Long- 
noses  ceased  to  pelt  them.  So  cautious  and  furtive  are 
they  that  not  a  sign  of  them  could  be  distinguished  by  the 
Mulgars  staring  up  from  below,  though,  indeed,  a  hun- 
dred or  more  of  their  thin  snouts  were  actually  protruded 
over  the  sides  of  the  chasm,  sniffing  and  trembling. 

—207— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"Does  it  always  rain  pebble-stones  and  lumps  of  ice  in 
these  miserable  hills?"  said  Thumb  bitterly. 

And  Ghibba  told  him  that  it  was  the  Long-nose  mul- 
gars  who  were  molesting  them.  They  squatted  down  to 
breathe  themselves,  hoping  to  tire  out  the  Obobbomans. 
But  the  instant  they  stirred,  down  showered  snowball, 
ice,  and  stones  once  more.  The  travellers  bound  faggots 
and  blankets  over  their  heads,  and  struggled  on,  but  the 
faggots  kept  slipping  loose,  and  did  not  cover  their  stoop- 
ing backs  and  buttocks.  They  shouted,  threatened,  shook 
their  hands  towards  the  heights;  one  or  two  even  flung 
pebbles  up  that  only  bounced  down  upon  their  own  heads 
again.  It  was  all  in  vain.  They  halted  once  more,  and 
squatted  down  in  despair.  To  add  to  their  misery,  it  was 
so  cold  in  this  gorge  that  the  breath  of  the  Hill-mulgars 
froze  in  long  icicles  on  their  beards,  and  whensoever  they 
turned  to  speak  to  one  another,  or  if  they  sneezed  (as  they 
often  did  in  the  cold,  and  with  the  snuff -like  ice-dust), 
their  fringes  tinkled  like  glass.  At  last  Ghibba,  who  had 
been  sitting  lost  in  thought  of  what  to  be  doing  next,  sud- 
denly groped  his  way  forward,  and  bade  two  of  his  people 
sit  down  to  their  firesticks  to  make  fire. 

"What  is  this  Whisker-face  tinkering  at  now?"  mut- 
tered Thumb.  "What  is  he  after  now?  We  had  best 
have  come  alone." 

"I  know  not,"  said  Nod;  "but  if  he  can  fight  Noses, 
Thumb,  as  well  as  he  can  fight  Beaks,  we  shall  soon  be 
getting  on  again." 

They  crouched  miserably  in  the  snow,  huddled  up  in 
shadow-blankets.  The  Obobbomans  peeped  further  into 
the  ravine,  chattering  together,  at  a  loss  to  understand 

—208— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

why  the  travellers  were  sitting  there  so  still.  But  at  last 
fire  came  to  the  firesticks,  and  Ghibba  then  bade  two  or 
three  of  his  Mountaineers  kindle  torches.  Whereupon 
he  gave  to  each  a  bundle  of  the  eagle  feathers  which  they 
had  plucked  from  the  five  carcasses  on  the  pass,  and  told 
them  to  burn  them  piecemeal  in  their  torches. 

"Ghost  of  a  Moh-man!"  grunted  Thumb  sourly;  "he 
has  lost  his  cheesy  wits!" 

With  feathers  fizzling,  away  they  went  again,  slipping, 
staggering,  and  straining  at  the  rope.  Down  at  once 
hailed  the  stones  again,  the  Obobbomans  gambolling  and 
squealing  with  delight  in  their  silly  mischief.  And  now 
no  longer  little  were  the  snowballs,  for  the  Long-noses 
all  this  time  had  been  busy  making  big  ones.  These  four 
or  five  of  them,  shoving  together,  with  noses  laid  side- 
long, rolled  slowly  to  the  edge,  and  pushed  over.  Down 
they  came,  bounding  and  rebounding  into  the  abyss,  and 
broke  into  fragments  on  the  travellers'  heads.  Some,  too, 
of  the  craftier  of  the  Long-noses  had  mingled  stones  and 
ice  in  these  great  balls. 

Thumb  gi-oaned  and  sweated  in  spite  of  the  cold,  for  he, 
being  by  far  the  fattest  and  broadest  of  the  travellers,  re- 
ceived the  most  stones,  and  stumbled  and  fell  far  more 
often  than  the  rest  on  his  clumsy  feet  on  the  ice.  Now, 
however,  the  smoke  of  the  burning  bunches  of  eagles' 
feathers  was  mounting  in  pale  blue  clouds  through  the 
gorge.  It  was  enough.  At  the  first  sniff  and  savour  of 
this  evil  smoke  the  Long-noses  paused  in  their  mischief, 
coughing  and  sneezing.  At  the  next  sniff  they  paused  no 
longer.  Away  they  scampered  headlong,  higgledy-pig- 
gledy, toppling  one  over  another  in  their  haste  to  be  gone, 

—209— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

squealing  with  disgust  and  horror;  and  the  travellers  at 
last  were  left  in  peace. 

"I  began  to  fear,  O  Man  of  the  ^lountains,"  grunted 
Thumb  to  Ghibba,  "that  your  wits  had  got  frostbitten. 
But  I  am  not  too  old  nor  fat  to  learn  wisdom." 

Ghibba  lifted  his  face  and  peered  from  under  the  band- 
age he  had  wound  over  his  sore  eyes  into  Thumb's  bruised 
face.  "Munza  or  Mountains,  there's  wisdom  for  all, 
brave  traveller,"  he  said.  "They  are  very  old  friends  of 
ours,  these  Long-noses;  they  could  smell  out  a  mouse's 
Meermut  in  the  moon." 


pT.i. 


-210- 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


The  pass  grew  ever  steeper,  but  now  that  the  travellers 
were  no  longer  pestered  by  the  Obobbomans  they  man- 
aged to  struggle  slowly  on.  And  near  about  sunset  they 
had  tugged  their  way  to  the  top,  and  came  out  again  upon 
the  mountain-side.  They  spread  out  their  blankets  and 
threw  themselves  down,  panting,  bruised,  and  outwearied. 
But  they  made  no  fire  here  yet,  because  their  wood  was 
running  short,  and  all  that  they  had  would  be  needed 
against  the  small  hours  of  the  night.  They  nibbled  at 
their  blue  cheese  and  a  few  cold  eagle-bones,  and,  having 
cut  one  of  their  skin-bags  to  pieces,  broke  up  the  frozen 
milk  and  shared  the  lumps  between  them. 

Thumb  and  Nod  crouched  down  beside  Thimble,  who 
was  now  awake  and  in  his  own  mind.  And  they  told  him 
all  that  had  happened  since  his  megrims  had  come  on.  He 
was  still  weak  and  fretful,  and  turned  his  eyes  hastily 
from  sight  of  the  mouldy  cheese  the  Mountain-mulgars 

—211— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

were  nibbling.  But  he  sucked  a  few  old  Ukka-nuts. 
Then  they  lifted  him  gently,  and  with  an  arm  round 
Thmnb's  neck  and  a  hand  on  Nod's  shoulder,  they  walked 
him  awhile  quietly  in  the  snow. 

While  the  brothers  were  thus  walking  friendly  together, 
Ghibba  groped  his  way  up  to  them. 

"I  come.  Royal  Travellers,"  he  said,  "to  tell  you  that 
here  our  country  ends.  Zut  lies  now  behind  us.  Yonder 
stretches  the  Shadow  Country,  and  my  people  know  the 
way  no  farther." 

The  three  brothers  turned  their  heads  to  look,  and  on 
their  cudgel-hand,  about  two  leagues  distant,  stood  Solmi; 
to  the  west,  and  a  little  in  front  of  them.  Moot  and 
Makkri.  Upon  the  topmost  edge  of  the  snow-slope  at 
the  foot  of  which  they  were  now  encamped  ran  a  long, 
low  border  of  a  kind  of  thorn-bush,  huddling  among  great 
rocks  and  boulders,  resembling  a  little  the  valleys  of  the 
Babbaboomas. 

"You  mean,  O  Man  of  the  Mountains,  whose  friend- 
ship has  been  our  very  lives  to  us,"  said  Thumb,  "that 
now  we  must  journey  on  alone?" 

"No,  Mulla-mulgar;  I  mean  only  that  here  the  Moona 
country,  my  people's  country,  ends,  and  therefore  that  I 
cannot  now  be  certain  of  the  way  to  the  Valleys  of  Tish- 
nar.  But  this  I  do  know:  that  beyond  here  is  thick  with 
the  snares  of  Noomanossi.  But  if  the  Mulgar  Princes  and 
the  Nizza-neela  Eengenares,  who  saved  my  kinsman's  life, 
would  have  it  so,  and  are  not  weary  of  our  company,  then 
I  and  my  people  will  journey  on  with  them  till  they  come 
to  an  end.  We  know  from  childhood  these  desolate  moun- 
tains.    They  are  our  home.     We  eat  little,  drink  little, 

—212— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

and  can  starve  as  quietly  as  an  icicle  can  freeze.  If  need 
be  (and  I  do  not  boast,  Mulla-mulgars),  we  Thin-shanks 
can  march  softly  all  day  for  many  days,  and  not  fall  by 
the  way.  We  are,  I  think,  merely  Leather-men,  not 
meant  for  flesh  and  blood.  But  the  Mulla-mulgars  have 
fought  with  us,  and  we  are  friends.  And  I  myself  am 
friend  to  the  last  sleep  of  the  small  Prince,  Nizza-neela, 
who  has  the  colour  of  Tishnar.  in  his  eyes.  Shall  it  be 
farewell,  Travellers?     Or  shall  we  journey  on  together?" 

The  brothers  looked  at  the  black  and  thorn-set  trees, 
at  the  towering  rocks,  at  the  wastes  of  the  beautiful  snows. 
They  looked  with  astonishment  at  this  old,  half-blind 
mountaineer  with  his  lean,  sinewy  arms,  and  hill-bent  legs, 
and  his  bandaged  eyes.  And  Thumb  lifted  his  hands  in 
salutation  to  Ghibba,  as  if  he  were  a  Mulla-mulgar  him- 
self. 

"Why  should  we  lead  you  into  strange  dangers,  O  Man 
of  the  Mountains,"  he  grunted — "maybe  to  death?  But 
if  you  ask  to  come  with  us,  if  we  have  only  to  choose,  how 
can  I  and  my  brothers  say  no?  We  will  at  least  be 
friends  who  do  not  part  while  danger  is  near,  and  though 
we  never  reach  the  Valley,  Tishnar  befriends  the  Meer- 
muts  of  the  brave.     Let  us,  then,  go  on  together." 

So  Ghibba  went  back  to  his  people,  and  told  them  what 
Thumb  had  said.  And  being  now  agreed  together,  they 
all  hobbled  off  'but  three,  who  were  left  to  guard  the 
bundles,  to  break  and  cut  down  wood,  and  to  see  if  per- 
haps among  the  thorns  grew  any  nut-trees.  But  they 
found  none;  and  for  their  pains  were  only  scratched  and 
stung  by  these  waste-trees  which  bear  a  deadly  poison  in 
their  long-hooked  thorns.     This  poison,  like  the  Enghsh 

—213— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

nettle,  causes  a  terrible  itch  to  follow  wherever  the  thorns 
scratch.  So  that  the  travellers  could  get  no  peace  from 
the  stinging  and  itching  except  by  continually  rubbing 
the  parts  in  snow  wherever  the  thorns  had  entered. 

And  Nod,  while  they  were  stick-gathering,  kept  close 
to  Ghibba. 

"Tell  me,  Prince  of  the  Mountains,"  he  said,  "what  are 
these  nets  of  Noomanossi  of  which  you  spoke  to  my 
brother  Thumb?     What  is  there  so  much  to  fear?" 

Ghibba  had  sat  himself  down  in  the  snow  to  pluck  a 
thorn  out  of  his  foot.  "I  will  tell  the  Prince  a  tale,"  he 
said,  stooping  over  his  bundle. 

"Long  time  ago  came  to  our  mountains  a  ]Mulgar  travel- 
ling alone.  JNIy  kinsmen  think  oftener  of  him  than  any 
stranger  else,  because,  JNIulla-mulgar,  he  taught  us  to  make 
fire.  He  was  wayworn  and  full  of  courage,  but  he  was 
very  old.  And  he,  too,  was  journeying  to  the  Valleys  of 
Tishnar.  But  he  was,  too,  a  silent  INIulgar,  never  stirred 
his  tongue  unless  in  a  kind  of  drone  at  evening,  and  told 
us  little  of  himself  except  in  sleep." 

"What  was  he  like?"  said  Nod.  "Was  he  mean  and 
little,  like  me,  or  tall  and  bony,  like  my  brother  Thimble, 
or  fat,  like  the  Mulla-mulgar,  my  eldest  brother, 
Thumb?" 

"He  was,"  said  Ghibba,  "none  of  these.  He  was  be- 
twixt and  between.  But  he  wore  a  ragged  red  jacket, 
like  those  of  the  Mulgars,  and  on  his  woman-hand  stood 
no  fourth  finger." 

"Was  the  little  woman-finger  newly  gone,  or  oldly 
gone?"  said  Nod. 

"I  was  younger  then,  Nizza-neela,  and  looked  close  at 

—214— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

everything.  It  was  newly  gone.  The  stump  was  bald 
and  pale  red.  He  was,  too,  white  in  the  extreme,  this 
old  Mulgar  travelling  out  of  Munza.  Every  single  hair 
he  carried  had,  as  it  were,  been  dipped  in  Tishnar's 
meal." 

"I  believe — oh,  but  I  do  believe,"  said  Nod,  "this  poor 
old  traveller  was  my  father,  the  Mulla-mulgar  Seelem, 
of  the  beautiful  Valleys." 

"Then,"  said  Ghibba,  jerking  his  faggot  on  to  his  back, 
and  turning  towards  the  camp,  "he  was  a  happy  Mulgar, 
for  he  has  brave  sons." 

"Tell  me  more,"  said  Nod.  "What  did  he  talk  about? 
Did  he  speak  ever  of  Ummanodda?  How  long  did  he 
stay  with  the  INIulla-moonas ?     Which  way  did  he  go?" 

"Lead  on,  then,"  said  Ghibba,  peering  under  his  band- 
age. 

"Here  go  I,"  said  Nod,  touching  his  paw. 

"He  followed  the  mountain-paths  with  my  own  father," 
said  Ghibba,  "and  lived  alone  for  many  days  in  one  of  our 
Spanyards,^  for  he  was  worn  out  with  travel,  and  nearly 
dead  from  lying  down  to  drink  out  of  a  Quickkul-fish 
pool.  But  after  five  days,  while  he  was  still  weak,  he 
rose  up  at  daybreak,  crying  out  in  IMunza-mulgar  he 
could  remain  with  us  no  longer.  So  my  people  brought 
him,  as  I  have  brought  you,  to  this  everlasting  snow-field, 
where  he  said  farewell  and  journeyed  on  alone." 

"Had  he  a  gun?"  said  Nod. 

"What  is  a  gun,  Nizza-neela?" 

"What  then — what  then?"  cried  Nod  impatiently. 

"Two  nights  afterwards,"  continued  the  old  Mulgar, 

1 1  suppose,  huts  or  burrowings. 

—215— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"some  of  my  people  came  up  to  the  other  end  of  the  gorge 
of  the  Long-noses.  There  they  found  him,  cold  and 
bleeding,  in  his  second  sleep.  The  Long-noses  had  pelted 
him  with  stones  till  they  were  tired.  But  it  was  not  their 
stones  that  had  driven  him  back.  He  would  not  answer 
when  the  Men  of  the  Mountains  came  whispering,  but 
sat  quite  still,  staring  under  his  black  arches,  as  if  afraid. 
After  two  days  more  he  rose  up  again,  crying  out  in  an- 
other voice,  like  a  Moh-mulgar.  So  we  came  again  with 
him,  two  'ropes'  of  us,  along  the  walks  the  traveller  knows. 
And  towards  evening,  with  his  bag  of  nuts  and  water- 
bottle,  in  his  rags  of  Juzana,  he  left  us  once  more.  Next 
morning  my  father  and  my  people  came  one  or  two  to- 
gether to  where  we  sit,  and — what  did  thej-  see?" 

"What  did  they  see?"  Nod  repeated,  with  frightened 
eyes. 

"They  did  see  only  this,"  said  Ghibba:  "footsteps — one- 
two,  one-two,  just  as  the  Mulla-mulgar  walks — all  across 
the  snow  beyond  the  thorn-trees.  But  they  did  see  also 
other  footsteps,  slipping,  sliding,  and  here  and  there  a 
mark  as  if  the  traveller  had  fallen  in  the  snow,  and  all 
these  coming  back  from  the  thorn-trees.  And  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  ice-path  was  a  broken  bundle  of  nuts  strewn 
abroad,  but  uneaten,  and  the  shreds  of  a  red  jacket. 
Water-bottle  there  was  none,  and  Mulgar  there  was  none. 
We  never  saw  or  heard  of  that  Mulgar  again." 

"O  Man  of  the  Mountains,"  cried  Nod,  "where,  then, 
is  my  father  now?" 

Ghibba  stooped  down  and  peered  under  his  bandage 
close  into  Nod's  small  face.     "I  believe,  Eengenares,  your 

—216— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

father — if  that  Mulgar  was  your  father — is  happy  and 
safe  now  in  the  Valleys  of  Tishnar." 

"But,"  said  Nod,  "he  must  have  come  back  again  out 
of  his  wits  with  fear  of  the  Country  of  Shadows." 

"Why,"  said  Ghibba,  "a  brave  Mulgar  might  come 
back  once,  twice,  ten  times;  but  while  one  foot  would 
swing  after  the  other,  he  might  still  arise  in  the  morn- 
ing and  try  again.  'On,  on,'  he  would  say.  'It  is  better 
to  die,  going,  than  to  live,  come-back.'  " 

And  Nod  comforted  himself  a  little  with  that.  Per- 
haps he  would  yet  meet  his  father  again,  riding  on  Tish- 
nar's  leopard-bridled  Zevveras;  perhaps — and  he  twisted 
his  little  head  over  his  shoulder — perhaps  even  now  his 
jNIeermut  haunted  near. 

"But  tell  me — tell  me  this,  Mountain-mulgar :  What 
was  the  fear  which  drove  him  back?  What  feet  so  light 
ran  after  him  that  they  left  no  imprint  in  the  snow? 
Whose  shadow-hands  tore  his  jacket  to  pieces?" 

Ghibba  threw  down  his  bundle  of  twigs,  and  rubbed  his 
itching  arms  with  snow. 

"That,  Mulla-mulgar,"  he  said,  smiling  crookedly,  "we 
shall  soon  find  out  for  ourselves.  If  only  I  had  the  Won- 
derstone  hung  in  my  beard,  I  should  go  singing." 

Nod  opened  his  mouth  as  if  to  speak,  and  shut  it  again. 
He  stared  hard  at  those  bandaged  eyes.  He  glanced 
across  at  the  black,  huddling  thorn-trees;  at  the  JNIoun- 
tain-mulgars,  going  and  returning  with  their  faggots;  at 
Thimble  lying  dozing  in  his  litter.  All  the  while  betwixt 
finger  and  thumb  he  squeezed  and  pinched  his  Wonder- 
stone  beneath  the  lappet  of  his  pocket. 

—217— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Should  he  tell  Ghibba?  Should  he  wait?  And  while 
he  was  fretting  in  doubt  whether  or  no,  there  came  a  sharp, 
short  yelp,  and  suddenly  out  of  the  thorn-trees  skipped 
a  INIountain-mulgar,  and  came  scampering  helter-skelter 
over  the  frozen  snow,  yelping  and  chattering  as  he  ran. 
Following  close  behind  him  lumbered  Thumb,  who  hobbled 
a  little  way,  then  stopped  and  turned  back,  staring. 

"Why  do  you  dance  in  the  snow,  my  poor  child?  What 
ails  you?"  mocked  Ghibba,  when  the  Mountain-mulgar  had 
drawn  near.     "Plave  you  pricked  your  little  toe?" 

The  Mountain-mulgar  cowered  panting  by  the  fire 
which  Ghibba  had  kindled.  And  for  a  long  while  he 
made  no  answer.  So  Nod  scrambled  on  his  fours  up  the 
crusted  slope  of  snow.  He  passed,  as  he  went,  two  or 
three  of  the  ^len  of  the  Mountains  whimpering  and 
whispering.  But  none  of  them  could  tell  him  what  they 
feared.  At  last  he  reached  Thimib,  who  was  still  stand- 
ing, stooping  in  the  snow,  staring  silently  towards  the 
clustering  thorn-trees. 

"What  is  it,  brother?"  said  Nod,  as  he  came  near. 
"What  is  it,  brother?     Why  do  you  crouch  and  stare?" 

"Come  close,  Ummanodda,"  said  Thumb.  "Tell  me, 
is  there  anything  I  see?"  They  hobbled  a  little  nearer, 
and  stood  stooping  together  with  eyes  fixed. 

These  thorn-trees,  as  dense  as  holly,  but  twisted  and 
huddled,  grew  not  close  together,  but  some  few  paces 
apart,  as  if  they  feared  each  other's  company.  Between 
them  only  purest  snow  lay,  on  which  evening  shed  its 
light.  And  now  that  the  sun  was  setting,  leaning  his 
beams  on  them  from  behind  Moot,  their  gnarled  and  spiny 
branches  were  all  aflame  with  scarlet.     It  was  utterly  still, 

—218— 


WHAT    IS    IT,    LUullU.R.-      WHY 
DO    YOU    CROUCH    AND    STARE? 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Nod  stood  with  wide-open  eyes.  And  softly  and  sud- 
denly, he  hardly  knew  how  or  when,  he  found  himself 
gazing  into  a  face,  quiet  and  lovely,  and  as  it  were  of  the 
beauty  of  the  air.  He  could  not  stir.  He  had  no  time 
to  be  afraid.  They  stood  there,  these  clumsy  Mulgars,  so 
still  that  they  might  have  been  carved  out  of  wood.  Yet, 
thought  Nod  afterwards,  he  was  not  afraid.  He  was 
only  startled  at  seeing  eyes  so  beautiful  beneath  hair  faint 
as  moonlight,  between  the  thorn-trees,  smiling  out  at  him 
from  the  coloured  light  of  sunset.  Then,  just  as  suddenly 
and  as  softly,  the  face  was  gone,  vanished. 

"Thumb,  Thumb!"  he  whispered,  "surely  I  have  seen 
the  eyes  of  a  wandering  INIidden  of  Tishnar?" 

"Hst!"  said  Thumb  harshly;  "there,  there!"  He 
pointed  towards  one  of  the  thorn-trees.  Every  branch 
was  quivering,  every  curved,  speared  leaf  trembling,  as 
if  a  flock  of  silvery  Parrakeetoes  perched  in  the  upper 
branches,  where  there  are  no  thorns,  or  as  if  scores  of  the 
tiny  Spider-mulgars  swung  from  twig  to  twig.  The  next 
moment  it  was  still — still  as  all  the  others  that  stood 
around,  afire  with  the  last  sunbeams.  Yet  nothing  had 
come,  nothing  gone. 

"Acch  magloona  nani,  Nod,"  called  Thumb,  afraid, 
"lagoosla  sul  majeela!" 

They  scuttled  back,  without  once  turning  their  heads,  to 
the  fire,  where  all  the  Hill-mulgars  were  sitting.  Whis- 
pering together  they  were,  too,  as  they  nibbled  their  cheese 
and  sipped  slowly  from  their  gurgling,  narrow-mouthed 
bags  or  bottles.  They  had  carried  Thimble  close  to  the 
fire,  and  Ghibba  was  roasting  nuts  for  him.  Thumb  and 
Nod  came  down  and  seated  themselves  beside  Ghibba,  but 

—219— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

they  had  agreed  together  to  say  nothing  of  what  they  had 
seen,  for  fear  of  affrighting  Thimble,  who  was  still  weak 
in  head  and  body,  and  continually  shivering.  And  Nod 
told  his  brothers  all  that  Ghibba  had  told  him  concerning 
the  solitary  traveller.  And  Thumb  sat  listening,  heavy 
and  still,  with  his  great  face  towards  the  huddling  thorns 
that  wooded  the  height. 

So  they  talked  and  talked,  sitting  together,  round  about 
their  fire.  The  twigs  of  these  thorns  burn  marvellous 
clear  with  colours,  and  at  each  thorn-tip,  as  the  flame  licks 
near,  wells  out  and  gathers  a  milk-pale  globe  of  poison 
that,  drying,  bursts  in  the  heat.  So  all  the  fire  is  con- 
tinually a-crackle,  amidst  a  thin  smoke  of  a  smell  like 
nard.  Never  before  had  so  bright  a  bonfire  blazed  upon 
these  hills.  For  the  Men  of  the  Mountains  never  camp 
beyond  the  pass,  and  the  Long-noses  have  not  even  the 
wits  to  keep  a  fire  fed  with  fuel.  But  as  the  day  wore  on, 
and 'when  all  the  feather-smoke  had  dispersed,  they  as- 
sembled in  hundreds  upon  hundreds,  sitting  a  long  dis- 
tance off,  all  their  noses  stuck  out  towards  the  blaze,  snuff- 
ing the  cloudy  fragrance  of  the  nard.  But  they  were 
too  much  afraid  of  the  travellers  to  venture  near  now  that 
they  were  free  men  and  out  of  the  pass. 

The  sun  had  set,  but  the  moon  was  at  full,  and  the 
travellers  determined  to  go  forward  at  once.  It  was 
agreed  that  every  one  should  carry  a  bundle  of  sticks  on 
his  shoulders,  also  a  stout  cudgel  or  staff ;  that  they  should 
march  close  in  rows  of  four,  with  Thimble's  litter  in  their 
midst;  and  that  the  Mulgar  at  each  corner  should  carry  a 
burning  torch.  They  made  what  haste  they  could  to  tie 
up  their  bundles,  bottles,  and  faggots,  so  as  to  lose  nothing 

—220— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

of  the  moon's  brilliance  during  the  long  night.  She  rode 
unclouded  above  the  snow-fields  when  the  little  band  of 
Mulgar-travellers  set  out.  As  soon  as  they  were  gone, 
down  trooped  the  long-nosed  Obobbomans  to  the  fire, 
sniffing  and  scuffling,  to  fall  asleep  at  last,  higgledy-pig- 
gledy, in  a  great  squirrel-coloured  ring  around  the  glowing 
embers,  their  noses  towards  the  fire. 


^^.. 


*^VJ9X: 


-221— 


CHAPTER  XIX 


The  travellers  marched  slowly,  keeping  sharp  watch,  their 
cudgels  ready  in  their  hands.  Behind  them,  paled  by  the 
moonlight,  shook  the  fiery  silver  of  the  Salemnagar. 
With  this  at  their  backs  and  that  Xorth  Pole,  ^loot,  in 
huge  congealment,  a  little  to  tiieir  left,  they  made  their 
way  at  an  angle  across  the  open  snow,  and  approached  the 
tangled  thickets.  Here  they  walked  more  closely  to- 
gether, with  heads  aslant  and  tails  in  air,  like  little  old  men, 
like  pedlars,  blinking  and  spying,  \wshing  beyond  measure 
they  were  sitting  in  comfort  around  their  watch-fire.  The 
farther  they  zigzagged  betwixt  the  thorns,  the  more  doubt- 
ful grew  the  way.  For  the  thorn-trees  rise  all  so  equal  in 
height  and  thickness  they  often  with  their  tops  shut  out  the 
stars,  and  there  was  nothing  by  which  the  travellers  could 
mark  what  way  they  went. 

Still  they  pressed  on,  their  hairy  faces  to  the  night- 
wind,  which  Ghibba  had  observed  before  starting  was 
drifting  from  the  north.     They  shufiled  crisply  over  the 

—222— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

snow,  coughing  softly,  and  gurring  in  their  throats,  wind- 
ing in  and  out  between  the  trees,  and  casting  lean,  gigantic 
shadows  across  the  open  spaces.  For  so  dazzling  bright 
the  moon  gleamed,  she  almost  put  out  the  smoky  flare 
of  their  torches.  But  it  gave  the  Mulgars  more  courage 
to  march  encompassed  with  their  own  light.  Their  packs 
were  heavy,  the  thickets  sloped  continually  upward.  But 
the  poison-thorns  curl  backward  beneath  the  drooping 
hood  of  their  leaves  by  night — in  the  hours,  that  is,  when, 
it  is  said,  they  distil  their  poison — so  the  travellers  were 
no  longer  fretted  by  their  stings.  Thus,  then,  they  gradu- 
ally advanced  till  Moot  was  left  behind  them,  and  out  of 
the  grey  night  rose  Mulgarmeerez,  mightiest  of  Arakka- 
boa's  peaks,  whose  snows  have  known  no  Mulgar  foot- 
prints since  the  world  began. 

Only  the  whish  of  the  travellers'  feet  on  the  snow  was 
to  be  heard,  when  suddenly  all  with  one  accord  stopped 
dead,  as  if  a  voice  had  cried,  "Halt!" 

Their  torches  faintly  crackled,  their  smoke  rising  in  four 
straight  pillars  towards  the  stars.  And  they  heard,  as  if 
everywhere  around  them  in  the  air,  clear  yet  marvellously 
small  voices  singing  with  a  thin  and  pining  sound  like  glass. 
It  floated  near,  this  tiny,  multitudinous  music — so  near 
that  the  travellers  drew  back  their  face  with  wide-open 
eyes.  Then  it  seemed  out  of  the  infinite  distance  to  come, 
echoing  across  the  moonlit  spars  that  towered  above  their 
heads. 

And  Ghibba  said  softly,  jerking  up  his  bundle  and 
peering  around  him  from  beneath  his  eye-bandage: 
"Courage,  my  kinsmen!  it  is  the  danger-song  of  Tishnar 
we  hear,  who  loves  the  fearless." 

—223— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

At  this  one  of  the  Men  of  the  Mountains  thrust  up  his 
pointed  chin,  and  said,  wagging  his  head:  "Why  do  we 
mareh  hke  this  at  night,  INIulla-moona?  These  are  not  our 
mountain-passes.  Let  us  camp  here  while  we  are  still 
alive,  and  burn  a  great  watch-fire  till  morning." 

"You  have  faggots.  Cousin  of  a  Skeeto,"  said  Ghibba. 
"Kindle  a  fire  for  yourself,  and  catch  us  up  at  day- 
break." 

The  Mountain-men  laughed  wheezily,  for  now  the  sing- 
ing had  died  away.  On  they  pushed  again.  But  now 
the  thorn-trees  gathered  yet  closer  together,  so  that  the 
Mulgars  could  no  longer  walk  in  company,  but  had  to 
straggle  up  by  ones  or  twos  as  best  they  could.  Still  up 
and  up  they  clambered,  laying  hold  of  the  thick  tufts  of 
leaves  sticky  with  poison  to  drag  themselves  forward. 
Many  times  they  had  to  pause  to  recover  their  breath,  and 
Nod  turned  giddy  to  look  down  on  the  moon-dappled  for- 
est through  which  they  had  so  heavily  ascended.  Thus 
they  continued,  until,  quite  without  warning.  Thumb,  who 
was  leading,  broke  out  into  one  loud,  hard,  short  bark  of 
fear,  for  he  suddenly  found  himself  standing  beneath  con- 
torted branches  on  the  verge  of  another  and  wider  plateau 
of  snow.  He  stood  motionless,  leaning  heavily  on  his 
cudgel,  the  knuckles  of  his  other  hand  resting  in  the  snow, 
his  breath  caught  back,  and  his  head  stooping  forward 
between  his  shoulders,  staring  on  and  on  between  aston- 
ishment and  fear. 

For  there,  all  along  the  opposite  ridge,  as  it  were  on 
the  margin  of  an  enormous  platter,  stood  as  if  frozen  in  the 
moonlight  the  monstrous  silver-haired  Meermuts  of  Mul- 

—224— 


C  /P- LotKrop 


luli.  Tlll.Ul.  .  .  .  .^lUOl)  A.>  1.  IKOZKX  I\  THK  MOUi\LlGHl' 
THE  MONSTROUS  SILVER  -  HAIRED  MEERMUTS  OF  MULGAR- 
MEEREZ,   GITARDINO   THE    ENCHANTED    ORCHARDS  OF  TISHNAR . 


THE  THREE  MULL A-MUL GARS 

garmeerez,  guarding  the  enchanted  orchards  of  Tishnar. 
Thumb  stood  in  deep  shadow,  for  instantly,  at  sight  of 
these  shapes,  as  one  by  one  the  travellers  came  straggling 
up  together,  they  quenched  their  hissing  torches  in  the 
snow.  No  sign  made  the  Meermuts  that  they  had  seen 
the  little  quaking  band  of  lean  and  ragged  Mulgars.  But 
even  a  squirrel  cracking  a  nut  could  have  been  heard  across 
these  windless  and  icy  altitudes.  And  even  now  it  seemed 
that  bark  of  fear  went  echoing  from  spur  to  spur.  The 
wretched  Mulgars  could  only  stand  and  gaze  in  helpless 
confusion  at  the  phantoms,  whose  eyes  shone  dismally  in 
the  moon  beneath  their  silver  hair  and  gi'cat  purple  caps. 
The  Meermuts  stood,  as  it  were,  for  a  living  rampart  all 
down  the  untrodden  snow  towards  the  great  Pit  of  Mul- 
garmeerez  till  lost  in  the  faint  grey  mists  of  the  moun- 
tains. 

"What's  to  be  done  now,  Prince  of  Ladder-makers?" 
said  Thumb  presently.  "Are  we  not  weary  of  wandering? 
There's  room  for  us  all  in  those  great  shadowy  bellies." 

"Itthiluthi  thoth  'Meermut'  onnoth  anoot  oonoothi," 
lisj)ed  one  of  the  INIoona-mulgars — that  is  to  say,  in  their 
own  language,  "But  maybe  these  Meermuts  gnaw  before 
swallowing." 

As  for  Ghibba,  he  feigned  that  his  eyes  were  too  weak 
and  sore,  and  peered  in  vain  beneath  his  bandages.  "Tell 
me  what's  to  be  seen,  Mulla-mulgar,"  he  said.  "Why  do 
we  linger?  The  frost's  in  my  toes.  Up  with  fresh  torches 
and  go  forward." 

Thumb  grunted,  but  made  no  answer.  Then  Ghibba 
drew  softly  back  into  the  deeper  shadow,  and  the  rest  of 

—225— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

the  Miilgars,  who  by  now  were  all  come  up,  stood  whis- 
pering, some  in  perplexity,  not  knowing  what  to  do;  some 
itching  and  sniffing  to  go  forward,  and  one  or  two  for  turn- 
ing hack.  One  JNIoona-mulgar,  indeed,  mewing  like  a 
cat  in  his  extreme  fear,  when  he  had  heard  Thumb's  sud- 
den bark,  had  turned  lean  shanks  and  hairy  arms  and  fled 
down  by  the  way  they  had  come.  Fainter  and  fainter  had 
grown  the  sounds  of  snapping  twigs,  until  all  again  was 
silent. 

"What  wonder  our  father  Seelem  stumbled  as  he  ran?" 
muttered  Nod  to  Thumb. 

But  Ghibba  stood  thinking,  the  skin  of  his  forehead 
twitching  up  and  down,  as  is  the  habit  of  nearly  all  Mul- 
gars,  high  and  low.  "This  is  our  riddle,  O  Mulla-mul- 
gars,"  he  said:  "If  we  turn  back  and  climb  slowly  up- 
ward, so  as  to  creep  round  in  hiding  from  these  giant 
Meermuts,  we  shall  only  come  at  last  to  batter  our  heads 
against  the  walls  of  Moot.  And  ]M66t  I  know  of  old: 
there  the  Gunga-moonas  make  their  huddles.  And  the 
other  way,  under  the  moon,  there  juts  a  precipice  five 
thousand  Mulgars  deep,  through  which,  so  the  old  news 
goes,  creeps  slowlier  than  moss  Tishnar's  never-melting 
Obea  of  ice.  Here,  then,  is  om*  answer,  Princes:  The 
valleys  must  be  yet  many  long  days'  journey.  Either, 
then,  we  go  straight  forward  beneath  the  feet  of  Tishnar's 
Orchard-meermuts,  like  forest-mice  that  gambol  among 
a  Mutti  of  Ephelantoes,  or  else,  like  shivering  Jack- Alls, 
we  go  back,  to  live  out  the  rest  of  this  littlest  of  lives 
itching,  but  having  nowhere  to  scratch.  What  thinks  the 
Mulgar  Eengenares?" 

And  at  that  Nod  remembered  what  the  watchman  had 

—226— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

said,  when  they  were  talking  together  by  the  eagles'  watch- 
fires.  He  touched  Thumb,  speaking  softly  in  Mulgar- 
royal.  "Thumb,  my  brother,  what  of  the  Wonderstone? 
what  of  the  Wonderstone?  Shall  we  tell  this  Moona- 
mulgar  of  that?" 

Thumb  laughed  sulkily.  "Seelem  kept  all  his  wits  for 
you,  Jugguba,"  he  answered;  "rub  and  see!" 

So  Nod  spread  open  his  pocket-flap  and  fetched  out  the 
Wonderstone,  wrapped  in  its  wisp  of  wool  and  the  stained 
leaf  of  paj^er  from  Battle's  little  book.  He  held  it  out  in 
his  brown,  hairless  palm  to  Ghibba  beneath  the  thorn. 
"What  think  you  of  that,  Mulla-moona?"  he  said.  And 
even  Ghibba's  dim  eyes  could  discern  its  milk-pale  shin- 
ing. They  talked  long  together  in  the  shadow  of  the 
thorns,  while  the  rest  of  the  skinny  travellers  sat  silent  be- 
side their  bundles,  coughing  and  blinking  as  they  mum- 
bled their  mouldy  cheese-rind. 

Ghibba  said  that,  as  Nod  was  a  Nizza-neela,  they  should 
venture  out  alone  together.  "I  am  nothing  but  a  skin  of 
bones — nothing  to  pick,"  he  said,  "and  all  but  sand-blind, 
and  therefore  could  not  see  to  be  afraid." 

"No,  no,  no,  Mulla-moona,"  Thumb  grunted  stubbornly. 
"If  mischief  came  to  my  brother,  how  could  I  live  on, 
listening  to  the  chittering  of  his  mother's  INIeermut  asking 
me,  'Where  is  Nod?'  Stay  here  and  guard  my  brother, 
Thimbulla,  who  is  too  sick  and  weak  to  go  with  us;  and 
if  we  neither  of  us  return  before  morning,  deal  kindly 
with  him,  Mulla-moona,  and  have  our  thanks  till  you  too 
are  come  to  be  a  shadow." 

So  at  last  it  was  agreed  between  them.  And  Thumb 
and  Nod  returned  together  to  the  edge  of  the  wood  and 

—227— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

peered  out  once  more  towards  the  phantom-guarded 
orchards.  Nod  waited  no  longer.  He  wetted  his  thumb 
once  more,  and  rubbed  thrice,  droning  or  crooning,  and 
stamping  nimbly  in  the  snow,  till  suddenly  Thumb  sprang 
back  clean  into  the  midst  of  a  thorn-tree  in  his  dismay. 

"Ubbe  nimba  sul  ugglourint!"  he  cried  hollowly.  For 
the  child  stood  there  in  the  snow,  shining  as  if  his  fur  were 
on  fire  with  silver  light.  About  his  head  a  wreath  of 
moon-coloured  buds  like  frost-flowers  was  set.  His  shoul- 
ders were  hung  with  a  robe  like  spider-silk  falling  behind 
him  to  his  glistening  heels.  But  it  was  Nod's  shrill  small 
laughter  that  came  out  of  the  shining. 

"Follow,  oh  follow,  brother,"  he  said.  "I  am  Fulby,  I 
am  Oomgar's  M'keeso ;  it  is  a  dream ;  it  is  a  night-shadow ; 
it  is  Nod  Meermut;  it  is  fires  of  Tishnar.  Hide  in  my 
blaze,  Thumb  Mulgar.     And  see  these  Noomas  cringe !" 

Thumb  grunted,  beat  once  on  his  chest  like  a  Gunga,  and 
they  stepped  boldly  out  together,  first  Nod,  then  black 
Thumb,  into  the  wide  splendour  of  the  waste.  And  the 
INIen  of  the  INIountains  watched  them  from  between  the 
spiky  branches,  with  eyes  round  as  the  ^linimuls',  and 
mouths  ajar,  showing  in  their  hair  their  catlike  teeth. 

Out  into  the  open  snow  that  borders  for  leagues  the 
trees  of  Tishnar's  orchard  stepped  Nod,  with  his  Wonder- 
stone.  And,  as  he  moved  along,  the  frost-parched  flakes 
burned  with  the  rainbow.  But  if  the  phantoms  of  ^lul- 
garmeerez  were  not  blind,  they  were  surely  dumb.  They 
made  no  sign  that  they  perceived  this  blazing  pigmy  ad- 
vancing against  them.  Nod's  light  heels  fell  so  fast 
Thumb  could  scarcely  keep  pace  with  him.  He  came  on 
grunting  and  coughing,  plying  his  thick  cudgel,  his  great 

—228— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

dark  eyes  fixed  stubbornly  upon  the  snow.  And  lo  and 
behold!  when  next  Nod  lifted  his  face  he  saw  only  moon- 
light shining  upon  the  smooth  trunks  of  trees,  which  in 
the  higher  branches  were  stooping  with  coloured  fruit. 
He  laughed  aloud.  "See,  Thumb,"  he  said,  "my  magic 
burns.  M'keeso  chatters.  These  Tishnar  Meermuts  are 
nought  but  trunks  of  trees !" 

But  Thumb  stared  in  more  dismal  terror  still,  for  he 
saw  plainly  now  their  huge  and  shadowy  clubs,  their  neck- 
lets of  gold  and  ivory,  and  the  hideous,  purple-capped 
faces  of  the  ghouls  gloating  down  on  him.  "Press  on, 
Ummanodda ;  your  eyes  .burn  magic,  and  trees  to  you 
are  sudden  death  to  me."  His  hair  stood  out  in  a  grisly 
mantle  around  him,  for  sheer  fear  and  horror  of  these  gi- 
gantic faces  as  they  passed.  But  Nod  edged  lightly 
through,  like  mantling  swan  or  peacock,  seeing  only  Tish- 
nar's  lovely  orchards.  No  snow  lay  here  in  these  en- 
chanted glades,  but  the  grass  was  powdered  with  pure 
white  flowers  that  caught  the  flame  of  him  in  their  beauty 
as  he  passed.  The  strange  small  voices  the  travellers  had 
heard  on  the  hillside  seemed  haunting  the  laden  boughs  of 
the  orchard.  But  to  Thumb  all  was  darkness,  and  frozen 
snow,  spiked  thorn-trees,  a-roost  with  evil  birds,  and  the 
horror  of  the  motionless  phantoms  behind  him.  He 
seemed  ever  and  again  to  hear  their  stride  between  the 
twigs,  and  to  feel  a  terrific  thumb  and  finger  closing  over 
his  matted  scalp. 

In  a  little  while  the  path  the  two  Mulgars  thridded  led 
out  from  under  the  boughs,  and  they  found  themselves  at 
the  foot  of  the  great  peak  they  had  all  night  been  approach- 
ing.    And  Nod  saw  fountains  springing  in  foam  amid  the 

—229— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

flowery  grasses,  and  all  about  them  were  trees  laden  with 
fruit,  and  the  music  of  instruments  and  distant  voices. 
But  not  on  these  near  things  was  his  mind  set,  but  on 
the  secret  paths  of  Mulgarmeerez,  winding  down  from  the 
crested  peak  above. 

"O  brother,  my  brother!  Tishnar  is  walking  on  the 
hills,"  he  said.  But  Thumb,  though  he  rubbed  his  eyes, 
could  see  nothing  but  the  towering  and  desolate  scaurs 
of  ice  and  snow  and  a  kind  of  snow-choked  ridge  girdling 
the  abrupt  mountain-side.  But  Nod  came  to  a  stand, 
half  crouching,  amazed,  and  watched,  as  it  seemed  to  him, 
the  JMiddens  of  Tishnar  riding  more  beautiful  than  day- 
break in  the  moonlight  of  her  hills.  And  he  heard  a  clear 
voice  within  him  cry :  "Have  no  fear,  Nizza-neela,  INIulla- 
mulgar  jugguba  Ummanodda,  neddipogo,  Eengenares; 
feast  and  be  merry.  Tishnar  watches  over  the  brave." 
And  he  told  Thumb  what  the  voice  had  said  to  him. 

And  Thumb  grew  angry,  for  he  was  tired  out  of  his 
courage.  "Have  it  as  you  will,"  he  said.  "It  is  easy 
to  fear  nothing  and  to  see  what  is  not  here  when  you  med- 
dle with  magic,  and  shine  like  a  fish  out  of  water.  But 
as  for  me,  I  go  back  to  my  brother  Thimble,  and  to  my 
friends,  the  Men  of  the  Mountains."  And  he  stumped 
sullenly  off,  crouching  low  over  his  cudgel. 

Then  Nod  said  softly:  "Wonderstone,  Wonderstone! 
call  back  my  brother  and  open  his  eyes."  Instantly 
Thumb  stopped  and  stood  upright.  Thorn  and  snow, 
blain  and  ache  and  bruise,  were  gone.  He  saw  the  mead- 
ows alight  with  starry  flowers,  the  fountains  and  the  fruit. 
And  he  smelled  the  smoke  of  nard  and  soltziphal  burning 
in  the  cressets  of  the  servants  of  Tishnar.     Nod  laughed 

—230— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

silently,  and  said:  "Bring,  too,  O  Wonderstone,  my 
brother  Thimbulla  on  his  litter,  and  the  Prince  Ghibba 
and  his  kinsfolk  to  feast  with  me." 

For  there,  in  the  midst  between  the  fountains,  was  a  long 
low  table  spread  with  flowers  and  strange  fruits  and  nuts, 
and  lit  with  clear,  pear-shaped  flames  floating  in  the  air 
like  that  of  the  Wonderstone,  but  of  the  colours  of  ivory 
and  emerald  and  amethyst ;  with  nineteen  platters  of  silver 
and  nineteen  goblets  of  gold.  And  presently  they  heard 
in  the  distance  the  grasshopper  voices  of  the  Hill-mulgars, 
as  they  came  stubbling  along  with  Thimble's  litter  in  their 
midst,  carrying  their  hea^y  faggots  and  bottles  and  bun- 
dles, their  pink  eyes  blinking,  their  knees  trembling,  not 
knowing  whether  to  be  joyful  or  afraid. 


—231— 


^BUuau... 


l2   "  ' 


J-T,-Si 


CHAPTER  XX 


They  cast  off  their  burdens  into  the  flowery  meadows  and 
besprinkled  themselves  with  the  pools  of  crystal  water  be- 
neath the  fountains.  And  Nod  himself  bathed  Ghibba's 
eyes  in  the  fountain-pool,  so  that  he,  too,  could  see,  look- 
ing close,  the  wandering  flames  lighting  the  platters  and 
goblets  and  fruits  and  nuts  and  flowers. 

The  travellers  sat  down,  all  the  nineteen  of  them,  Nod  at 
the  head  of  the  table — that  is,  looking  towards  Mul- 
garmeerez — and  Thumb  at  the  foot,  with  Thimble  propped 
up  on  the  one  side  and  Ghibba  on  the  other.  Many  of  the 
Mountain-mulgars,  however,  who  eat  always  sitting  on 
the  ground,  soon  found  this  perching  on  stools  at  a  table 
irksome  for  their  pleasure,  and  squatted  themselves  down 
in  the  thick  grasses  for  Tishnar's  supper.  And  they 
feasted  on  fruits  they  never  before  had  tasted  nor  knew 
to  grow  on  earth:  one,  rosy  and  red  and  round  and  small, 
with  a  long,  slender  stalk  and  a  little  pale  hard  stone,  of 

—232— 


2  % 


a;   z 
o   o 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

the  colour  of  amber,  in  the  middle;  one  very  sweet  and 
globular,  jacketed  in  a  yellow  rind,  the  inside  all  divided 
into  little  juicy  wedges  as  if  for  a  mouthful  each;  another 
rough  like  lichen,  with  a  tuft  of  leaves  in  a  spike,  rusty 
without  and  pale  within;  yet  another  with  a  hard,  smooth 
coat  like  faded  copper,  'but  inside  a  houseful  of  hundreds 
of  tiny  fruits  like  seeds  of  the  colour  of  blood,  and  run- 
ing  over  with  pleasant  juices;  also  Manakin-figs,  keeries, 
and  love-apples,  quinces,  juleeps,  xandimons,  and  grapes. 

There  were  nuts  also — green,  coral,  and  cinnamon,  long 
and  little,  hairy,  smooth,  crinkled,  rough,  in  pairs,  dark 
and  double,  round-ribbed  and  nuggeted — every  kind  of 
nut  the  pouch  of  Mulgar  knows.  And  they  drank  from 
their  goblets  thin  sweet  wine,  honey-coloured,  and  lilac. 
And  while  they  ate  and  drank  and  made  merry,  lifting 
their  cups,  cracking  their  nuts,  hungrily  supping,  a  dis- 
tant and  beautiful  music  clashed  in  the  air  around  the 
feasting  travellers,  like  the  music  of  cymbal  and  dulcimer. 
Nod  sat  silken-silvery,  with  every  hair  enlustred,  his 
wrinkles  gone,  his  small  right  hand  feeding  him,  while 
with  his  woman-hand  he  clasped  his  Wonderstone,  his  little 
face  bright  as  a  child's,  with  topaz  eyes.  Rejoiced  were 
the  sad-faced  Mountain-mulgars  that  they  had  not  for- 
saken the  wandering  Princes  and  gone  home.  They 
feasted  like  men. 

And  at  last,  when  all  were  refreshed,  they  rose  and 
raised  their  voices  to  Tishnar,  hoarsQ  and  shrill,  turning 
their  faces  towards  the  vast  and  silent  peak  of  Mulgar- 
meerez,  that  jutted  to  the  stars  above  their  heads.  Then 
they  laid  themselves  down  in  the  sweet  Immanoosa- 
scented  meadow,  and  soon,  lulled  by  the  noise  of  the  foun- 

—233— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

tains  and  the  faint,  wandering  orchard  music,  they  fell 
asleep.  Nod,  too,  lay  down,  ruffled  with  fire,  burning 
like  touchwood,  amid  the  enchanted  flowers.  But  as 
deeper  and  deeper  he  sank  to  sleep,  his  small  bro^vn  fin- 
gers loosened  and  unclasped  about  his  Wonderstone;  it 
fell  to  the  bottom  of  his  sheep-skin  pocket,  and  then,  like  a 
dream,  vanished,  gone,  were  fountain,  feast,  and  music. 
And  deep  in  snow,  encircled  by  jDoison-thorns,  slumbered 
the  nineteen  travellers  in  their  rags  and  solitude,  come  out 
of  magic,  tliough  they  knew  it  not. 

One  by  one  they  awoke,  stiff  and  dazed  from  so  deep  a 
sleep.  They  made  no  stay  here,  lest  Tishnar  should  be 
angered  with  them.  And  to  some  the  night  seemed  a 
dream;  some  even  whispered,  "Noomanossi."  And  all, 
turning  their  faces,  with  daybreak  broadening  on  their 
cheeks,  hastily  took  up  their  workaday  bundles  again  and 
hurried  off. 

But  when  Nod  lifted  his  eyes  to  Mulgarmeerez,  it 
seemed  as  if  manj^  phantom  faces  were  looking  down  on 
them  as  they  hastened,  like  some  small  company  of  hares 
or  coneys,  straggling  across  the  whiteness.  Being  re- 
freshed with  sleep  and  Tishnar's  phantom  supper,  the 
Mountain-mulgars  did  not  stay  to  take  their  "glare,"  but 
just  screened  their  feeble  eyes  against  the  sunbeams  with 
eagle  feathers,  and,  with  Thimble  swinging  in  his  litter, 
scurried  on  across  these  smoother  slopes.  By  night  Mul- 
garmeerez, last  of  the  seven  peaks  of  Arakkaboa,  was  left 
behind  them,  and  it  seemed  the  wind  blew  not  so  sharply 
out  of  the  haze  on  this  side  of  the  haunted  woods.  The 
travellers  towards  evening  slept  in  a  dry  cavern.  But  it 
was  a  fidgety  sleep,  for  this  cave  was  the  haunt  of  an  odd 

—234— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

and  wily  sand-flea  that  made  the  most  of  a  Mulgar-supper, 
more  toothsome  than  anything  it  had  feasted  on  for  many 
a  day. 

Near  about  the  middle  of  the  next  morning  the  travel- 
lers came  in  their  descent  to  a  stream  of  water  rushing 
swiftly  but  smoothly  in  the  channel  it  had  graven  for  its 
waters  out  of  the  rock.  This  torrent  was  green,  icy,  and 
deep.  On  its  farther  side  the  rock  rose  steep  and  smooth. 
The  travellers  kindled  themselves  a  fire  and  warmed  their 
cold  bones.  Then,  having  emptied  their  skin-bottles,  they 
set  off  along  the  bank,  or  as  near  to  it  as  they  could  walk 
at  ease.  Thimble's  shivering  was  now  gone,  and  he 
marched  along  with  his  brothers,  rather  hobbledy,  but  in 
very  good  spirits.  He  took  good  care,  however,  to  keep 
well  in  front  of  the  Mountain-mulgars,  for  if  he  so  much 
as  faintly  sniffed  their  cheese,  he  fell  sick.  Ever  down- 
ward now  they  were  marching.  A  warm  wind  was  blow- 
ing out  of  the  valley,  the  snows  were  melting,  and  rills 
trickling  everywhere  into  the  green  and  swirling  water. 
And  after  a  march  all  morning,  they  came  to  a  village  of 
the  Fishing-mulgars. 

These  are  a  peaceable  and  ugly  tribe  of  Mulgars,  with 
extremely  long  and  sinewy  tails,  which  are  tufted  at  the 
tip,  like  those  of  the  Moona-mulgars,  with  a  bunch  of 
fine  silky  hair.  Thej^  smear  upon  this  tuft  the  pulp  of  a 
fruit  that  grows  on  a  bush  hanging  over  the  water,  called 
Soota,  which  the  fish  that  swim  in  this  torrent  never  weary 
of  nibbling.  Then,  sitting  huddled  up  and  motionless 
in  some  little  inlet  or  rocky  hole  in  the  bank,  the  Fishing- 
mulgar  pays  out  his  long  tail  and  lets  it  drift  with  the 
stream.     By-and-by,    maybe,    some    hungry    fish    comes 

—235— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

swiiiiniing  by  that  way  and  smells  the  pounded  Soota. 
He  softly  stays,  nibbling  and  tasting.  Very  slowly  the 
Fishing-mulgar,  who  instantly  perceives  the  least  com- 
motion in  his  tail-tuft,  draws  back  his  bait  without  so  much 
as  blinking  an  eyelid.  And  when  he  has  enticed  the  fish 
quite  close  to  the  bank,  still  all  intent  on  its  feeding,  he 
stoops  in  a  flash,  and,  plunging  his  sharp-nailed  hands  in 
the  water,  hooks  the  struggler  out. 

They  swarm  about  water,  these  ^lulgars,  and  teach  their 
tiny  babies  to  fish,  too,  by  scooping  out  a  hole  or  basin 
in  the  rock,  which  they  fill  from  the  torrent.  In  this 
they  set  free  two  or  three  little  half-grown  fish.  These, 
with  their  infant  tails,  the  children  catch  again  and  again, 
and  are  rewarded  at  evening,  according  to  their  skill,  with 
a  slice  of  roe  or  a  backbone  to  pick.  An  old  and  crafty 
Fishing-mulgar  will  sit  happy  all  day  in  some  smooth 
hollow,  and,  having  snared  perhaps  four  or  five,  or  even, 
maybe,  as  many  as  nine  or  twelve  fat  fishes,  home  he  goes 
to  his  leaf-thatched  huddle  or  sand-hole,  and  eats  and  eats 
till  he  can  eat  no  more.  After  which  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren squat  round  and  feed  on  what  remains.  Some  eat 
raw,  and  those  of  less  gluttony  cook  their  catch  at  a  large 
fire,  which  they  keep  burning  night  and  day.  Here  the 
whole  village  of  them  may  be  seen  sitting  of  an  evening 
toasting  their  silvery  supper.  But,  although  they  are 
such  greedy  feeders,  there  is  something  in  the  fish  that 
kee^is  these  INIulgars  very  lean.  And  the  more  they  eat 
the  leaner  they  get. 

Sometimes,  Ghibba  told  Nod,  Fishing-mulgars,  who 
have  given  up  all  fruits  and  nuts  to  gluttonize,  and  live 
only  on  fish,  have  been  known  by  much  feeding  to  waste 

—236— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

quite  away.  Moreover,  a  few  years  of  this  cold  fishing 
paralyses  their  tails.  And  so  many  go  misshapen.  On 
being  questioned  as  to  where  they  had  learned  to  make  fire, 
the  Fishing-mulgars  told  Ghibba  that  a  certain  squint- 
ing Moh-mulgar  had  come  their  way  once  along  the  tor- 
rent, tongue-tied  and  trembling  with  palsy.  By  the  fire 
he  had  made  for  himself  the  Fishing-mulgars,  after  he  was 
gone,  had  stacked  wood,  and  this  was  the  selfsame  fire  that 
had  been  kept  burning  ever  since.  Did  once  this  fire  die 
out,  not  knowing  of,  nor  having  any,  first-sticks,  it  would 
be  raw  fish  for  the  tribe  for  evermore.  On  hearing  this, 
the  travellers  looked  long  at  one  another  between  glad- 
ness and  dismay — gladness  to  hear  that  their  father  Seelem 
(if  it  was  he)  had  come  alive  out  of  the  Orchards,  and 
dismay  for  his  many  ills. 

They  made  their  camp  for  two  nights  with  these  friendly 
people.  They  are  as  dull  and  stupid  in  most  things  as  they 
are  artful  at  fishing.  But  they  are,  beyond  even  the 
Munza-mulgars,  mischievous  mimics.  Even  the  little  ones 
would  come  mincing  and  peeping  with  wisps  of  moss  and 
grass  stuck  on  theii*  faces  for  eyebrows  and  whiskers,  their 
long  tails  cocked  over  their  shoulders,  their  eyes  screwed 
up,  in  imitation  of  the  Men  of  the  Mountains.  Lank  old 
Thimble  laughed  himself  hoarse  at  these  children.  At 
night  they  beat  little  wood  drums  of  different  notes  round 
their  fires,  making  a  sort  of  wearisome  harmony.  They 
also  play  at  many  sports — "Fish  in  the  Ring,"  "A  tail, 
a  tail,  a  tail!"  and  "Here  sups  Sullilulli."  But  I  will  not 
describe  them,  for  they  are  just  such  games  as  are  played 
all  the  world  over  by  Oomgar  and  Mulgar  alike.  They 
are  all,  however,  young  and  old,  hale  and  paralysed,  incor- 

—237— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

rigible  thieves  and  gluttons,  and  rarely  comb  themselves. 

All  along  the  rocky  banks  of  the  torrent  the  travellers 
passed  next  day  the  snug  green  houses  of  these  Fishing- 
mulgars.  Nod  often  stayed  awhile  to  watch  their  fishing, 
and  almost  wished  he  had  a  tail,  so  that  he,  too,  might 
smear  and  dangle  and  watch  and  plunge.  But  their  lan- 
guage Nod  could  not  in  the  least  understand.  Only  by 
the  help  of  signs  and  gi'imaces  and  long  palaver  could  even 
Ghibba  himself  understand  them.  But  he  learned  at  least 
that,  for  some  reason,  the  travellers  would  not  long  be  able 
to  follow  the  river,  for  the  Fishing-mulgar  would  first 
point  to  the  travellers,  then  to  the  water,  and  draw  a  great 
arch  with  their  finger  in  the  air,  shaking  their  little  heads 
with  shut  eyes. 

Ghibba  tried  in  vain  to  catch  exactly  what  they  meant  by 
these  signs,  for  they  had  no  word  to  describe  their  meaning 
to  him.  But  after  he 'had  patiently  watched  and  listened, 
he  said:  "I  think,  Mulla-mulgars,  they  mean  that  if  we 
keep  walking  along  these  slippery  high  banks,  one  b}^  one, 
we  shall  topple  head  over  heels  into  the  torrent,  and  be 
drowned — over  like  that,"  he  said,  and  traced  with  his 
finger  an  arch  in  the  air. 

But  this  was  by  no  means  what  the  Fishing-mulgars 
meant.  For,  about  three  leagues  beyond  the  last  of  their 
houses,  the  travellers  began  to  'hear  a  distant  and  steady 
roar,  like  a  faint,  continuous  thunder,  which  grew  as  they 
advanced  ever  louder  and  louder.  And  when  the  first 
faint  flowers  began  to  peep  blue  and  yellow  along  the 
margin  where  the  sun  had  melted  the  snow,  they  came  to 
where  the  waters  of  the  torrent  widened  and  forked,  some, 
with  a  great  boiling  of  foam  and  prodigious  clamour, 

—238— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

whelming  sheer  down  a  precipice  of  rock,  while  the  rest 
swept  green  and  full  and  smooth  into  a  rounded  cavern  in 
the  mountain-side. 

Here,  as  it  was  now  drawing  towards  darkness,  the 
travellers  built  their  fire  and  made  their  camp.  Next 
morning  Ghibba  decided,  after  long  palaver,  to  take  with 
him  two  or  three  of  the  Mountain-mulgars  to  see  if  they 
could  clamber  down  beside  the  cataract,  to  discover  what 
kind  of  country  lay  beneath.  Standing  above,  and  peer- 
ing down,  they  could  see  nothing,  because,  with  the  melt- 
ing of  the  snow,  a  thick  mist  had  risen  out  of  the  valley,  and 
swam  white  as  milk  beneath  them,  into  which  great  dish 
of  milk  the  cataract  poured  its  foam.  Ghibba  took  at  last 
with  him  five  of  the  nimblest  and  youngest  of  the  Moona- 
mulgars,  not  knowing  what  difficulties  or  dangers  might 
not  beset  them.  But  he  promised  to  return  to  the  Mulla- 
mulgars  before  nightfall. 

"But  if,"  he  said,  "the  first  star  comes,  but  no  Ghibba, 
then  do  you,  O  Royalties,  if  it  please  you,  build  up  a  big 
fire  above  the  waters,  so  that  we  may  grope  our  way  back 
to  you  before  morning." 

So,  with  bundles  of  nuts  and  a  little  of  the  mountain 
cheese  that  was  left,  when  the  morning  was  high,  Ghibba 
and  his  five  set  off.  The  rest  of  the  travellers  sat  bask- 
ing in  the  sunshine  all  that  day,  dressing  their  sores  and 
bruises,  dusting  themselves,  and  sleeking  out  their  matted 
hair.  Some  even,  so  great  was  the  neglect  they  had  fallen 
into,  took  water  to  themselves  to  ease  their  labour.  But 
for  the  most  part  Mulgars  use  water  for  their  msides  only 
(and  that  not  often,  so  juicy  are  their  fruits),  never  for 
their  out.     But  dusk  began  to  fall,   the  stars  to  shine 

—239— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

faintly,  darkness  to  sally  out  of  the  forest  upon  the  moun- 
tain-side, and  Ghibba  had  not  returned.  The  travellers 
heaped  on  more  wood,  of  which  there  was  abundance,  and 
lit  a  fire  so  fiery  bright  that  to  the  Rock-folk  looking  down 
— wolf,  and  fox,  and  eagle,  and  mountain-leopard — it 
seemed  like  a  great  "palaver"  of  Oomgar-nuggas,  who  had 
had  their  villages  in  this  valley  many  years  before  the 
WitzaweelwuUa. 


.^« 


*t-»«.t: 


—240- 


CHAPTER  XXI 


When  they  could  no  longer  see  the  hilltop  for  cloud 
and  mist,  Thumb  lit  a  second  fire  on  the  isle  of  rock  upon 
the  verge  of  the  cataract,  where  the  water  could  not  scat- 
ter on  it.  But  no  sign  came  of  Ghibba  and 'his  five  Moona- 
men,  and  Nod  began  to  fret,  and  could  eat  no  supper,  for 
fear  that  some  evil  had  overtaken  them.  But  he  said 
nothing,  because  he  knew  well  enough  by  now  that  Thumb 
had  much  the  same  stomach  for  distrust  as  himself,  though 
he  kept  a  still  tongue  in  his  head,  and  that  it  only  angered 
him  to  be  pestered  with  questions  no  Mulgar-wit  could 
answer.  He  sat  by  the  watch-fire  in  his  draggled  sheep's- 
jacket,  his  hands  on  his  knees,  and  wished  he  had  lent 
Ghibba  his  Wonderstone.  "But  no,"  he  thought,  "Mutta- 
matutta  bade  me  'to  no  one.'  Ghibba  is  cunning  and 
brave;  he  will  come  back." 

The  Men  of  the  Mountains  coiled  themselves  up  by  the 
fire.     They  fear  neither  for  themselves  nor  for  one  an- 

—241— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

other.  "We  die  because  we  must,"  they  say.  Yet  none 
the  less  they  raise,  as  I  have  said,  long  ululatory  lamenta- 
tions over  their  dead,  and  Noomanossi  is  their  enemy  as 
much  as  any  Mulgar's.  Thimble,  still  a  little  weak  and 
hazy  in  his  head  after  his  sickness,  fell  quickly  asleep ;  and 
soon  even  Thumb,  with  head  wagging  from  side  to  side, 
though  he  sat  bolt  upright  on  his  heels  in  front  of  the  fire, 
was  dozing. 

Nod  alone  could  not  close  his  eyes.  He  watched  his 
brother's  great  face;  lower,  lower  would  drop  his  chin, 
wheel  round,  and  start  up  again  with  a  jerk.  "Good 
dreams,  old  Thumb,"  he  whispered ;  "dreams  of  Salem  that 
bring  him  near!" 

And  all  the  while  that  these  thoughts  were  stirring  in 
his  head  he  heard  the  endless  echoing  and  answering  voices 
of  the  cataract.  Now  they  seemed  the  voices  of  Mulgars 
quarrelling,  shouting,  and  fighting  near  and  far;  and  now 
it  seemed  as  if  a  thousand  thousand  birds  were  singing 
sweet  and  shrill  beneath  the  leaves  of  a  great  forest.  The 
shadows  of  the  fire  danced  high.  But  the  night  was  clear. 
He  could  see  a  great  blue  star  shining  right  over  their 
thin  column  of  smoke,  winding  into  the  air.  And  now 
from  the  ravine  into  which  Ghibba  had  gone  down  with  his 
five  Moona-men  the  milk-pale  mists  began  softly  to  over- 
flow, as  if  from  a  pot  filled  to  the  brim.  If  only  Ghibba 
would  come  back! 

Nod  scrambled  up,  and  rather  warily  shuffled  past  the 
sleepers  over  to  the  other  beacon-fire  they  had  kindled.  A 
few  strange  little  night-beasts  scuttled  away  as  he  drew 
near,  attracted  by  the  waraith  of  the  fire,  or  even,  perhaps, 
taking  refuge  in  its  shine  from  the  night-hunting  birds  that 

—242— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

wheeled  and  whirred  in  the  air  above  them.  "Urrckk, 
urck!"  croaked  one,  swinging  so  close  that  Nod  felt  the  fan 
of  its  wings  on  his  cheek.  "Starving  Mulgars,  urrckk, 
urck!"  it  croaked. 

He  heaped  up  the  fire.  But  'he  could  not  see  a  hand's 
breadth  into  the  ravine.  Calm  and  still  the  mist  lay,  and 
softer  than  wool.  Nod  wandered  restlessly  back,  passed 
again  the  camping  Mulgars,  and  hobbled  across  till  he 
came  to  the  rocky  bank  of  the  torrent  near  to  where  it 
forked.  Here  a  faint  reflection  of  the  flamelight  fell,  and 
Nod  could  see  the  drowsy  fish  floating  coloured  and  round- 
eyed  in  the  sliding  water.  And  while  he  was  standing 
there,  he  thought,  like  the  sound  of  an  odboe  singing  amid 
thunder,  he  seemed  to  hear  on  the  verge  of  the  roar  of 
the  cataract  a  small  wailing  voice,  not  of  birds,  nor  of 
Mulgars,  nor  like  the  phantom  music  of  Tishnar.  He 
crept  softly  down  and  along  the  water-side,  under  a  black 
and  enormous  dragon-tree.  And  beneath  the  giant  sedge 
he  leaned  forward  his  httle  hairy  head,  and  as  his  flame- 
haunted  eyes  grew  accustomed  to  the  gloom,  he  perceived 
in  the  dark-green  dusk  in  which  she  sat  a  Water-midden 
sitting  low  among  the  rushes,  singing,  as  if  she  herself 
were  only  music,  an  odd  little  water-clear  song. 

"Bubble,  Bubble, 
Swim  to  see 
Oh,  how  beautiful 
I  be. 

"Fishes,  Fishes, 
Finned  and  fine, 
What's  your  gold 

Compared  with  mine? 
—243— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"Why,  then,  has 

Wise  Tishnar  made 
One  so  lovely. 
Yet  so  sad? 

"Lone  am  I, 

And  can  but  make 
A  little  song, 

For  singing's  sake." 

Her  slim  hands,  her  stooping  shoulders,  were  clear  and 
pale  as  ivory,  and  Nod  could  see  in  the  rosy  glimmering 
of  the  flames  her  narrow,  beautiful  face  reflected  amid 
the  gold  of  her  hair  upon  the  formless  waters.  Mutta- 
matutta  once  had  told  Nod  a  story  about  the  Water- 
middens  whom  Tishnar  had  made  beyond  all  things  beau- 
tiful, and  yet  whose  beauty  had  made  beyond  all  things 
sad.  But  he  could  never  in  the  least  understand  why  this 
was  so.  When,  by  the  sorcery  of  his  Wonderstone,  he 
had  swept  all  glittering  the  night  before  across  the  jewelled 
snow,  he  had  never  before  felt  so  happy.  Why,  then,  was 
this  Water-midden — by  how  much  more  beautiful  than  he 
was  then! — why  was  she  not  happy,  too?  He  peered  in 
his  curiosity,  with  head  on  one  side  and  blinking  eyes, 
at  the  Water-midden,  and  presently,  without  knowing  it, 
breathed  out  a  long,  gruff  sigh. 

The  still  Water-midden  instantly  stayed  her  singing  and 
looked  up  at  him.  Not  in  the  least  less  fail*  than  the  clus- 
tering flowers  of  Tishnar's  orchard  was  her  pale  startled 
face.  Her  eyes  were  dark  as  starry  night's  beneath  her 
narrow  brows.  She  drew  her  fingers  very  stealthily  across 
the  clear  dark  water. 

—244— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"Are  you,  then,  one  of  those  wild  wandering  Mulgars 
that  light  great  fires  by  night,"  she  said,  "and  scare  all  my 
fishes  from  sleeping?" 

"Yes,  Midden;  I  and  my  brothers,"  said  Nod.  "We 
light  fires  because  we  are  cold  and  hungry.  We  are  wan- 
derers; that  is  true.     But  'wild' — I  know  not." 

"  'Cold,'  O  Mulgar,  and  with  a  jacket  of  sheep's  wool, 
thick  and  curled,  like  that?" 

Nod  laughed.  "It  was  a  pleasant  coat  when  it  was 
new,  Midden,  but  we  are  old  friends  now — it  and  me. 
And  though  it  keeps  me  warm  enough  marching  by  day, 
when  night  comes,  and  this  never-to-be-forgotten  frost 
sharpens,  my  bones  begin  to  ache,  as  did  my  mother's 
before  me,  whose  grave  not  even  Kush  can  see." 

"The  Mulgar  should  live,  like  me,  in  the  water,  then 
he,  too,  would  never  know  of  cold.  Whither  do  you  and 
your  brothers,  wander,  O  Mulgar?" 

"We  have  come,"  said  Nod,  "from  beyond  all  IMunza- 
mulgar,  that  lies  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  of  the  saf- 
fron-fearing Coccadrilloes — that  is,  many  score  leagues 
southward  of  Arakkaboa — and  we  go  to  our  Uncle,  King 
Assasimmon,  Prince  of  the  Valleys  of  Tishnar — that  is,  if 
that  Mountain-prince,  my  friend  Ghibba,  can  find  us  a 
way." 

The  Water-midden  looked  at  Nod,  and  drew  softly, 
slowly  back  her  smooth  gold  locks  from  the  slipperj^  water. 
"The  Mulla-mulgar,  then,  has  seen  great  dangers?"  she 
said.  "He  is  very  young  and  little  to  have  travelled  so 
far." 

Nod's  voice  grew  the  least  bit  glorious.  "  'Little  and 
young,' "    he    said.     "Oh    yes.     And    yet,    O    beautiful 

—245— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Water-midden,  my  brothers  would  never  have  been  here 
without  me." 

"Tell  me  why  that  is,"  she  said,  leaning  out  of  her  heavy 
hair. 

"Because — because,"  Nod  answered  slowly,  and  not 
daring  to  look  into  her  face — "because  Queen  Tishnar 
watches  over  me." 

The  Water-midden  leaned  her  head.  "But  Tishnar 
watches  over  all,"  she  said. 

"Why,  then,  O  Midden,  has,  as  your  song  said,  Tishnar 
made  you  so  sad?" 

"Songs  are  but  songs,  Mulla-mulgar,"  she  answered. 
"It  is  sad  seeing  only  my  own  small  loneliness  in  the  water. 
Would  not  the  Mulgar  himself  weary  with  only  staring 
fish  for  company?" 

"Are  there,  then,  no  other  Water-middens  in  the  river?" 
said  ISTod. 

"Have  you,  then,  seen  any  beside  me?" 

"None,"  said  Nod. 

The  Water-midden  turned  away  and  stooped  over  the 
water.  "Tell  me,"  she  said,  "why  does  the  Queen  Tishnar 
guard  so  closely  you?" 

"I  am  a  Nizza-neela,  Midden — Mulla-mulgar  Umman- 
odda  Nizza-neela  Eengenares — that  is  what  I  am  called, 
speaking  altogether.  Other  names,  too,  I  have,  of  course, 
mocking  me.  Who  is  there  wise  that  was  not  once 
foolish?" 

"A  Nizza-neela!"  said  the  Midden,  leaning  back  and 
glancing  slyly  out  of  her  dark  eyes. 

"Oh  yes,"  said  Nod  gravely;  "but  besides  that  I  carry 
with  me  ,  .  ." 

—246— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"Carry  with  you?"  said  she. 

"Oh,  only  the  Wonderstone,"  said  Nod. 

Then  the  Water-midden  Hfted  boi:h  her  hands,  and 
scattered  back  her  long  pale  locks  over  her  narrow  shoul- 
ders.    "The  Wonderstone?    What,  then,  is  that?" 

Nod  told  her,  though  he  felt  angry  with  himself,  all 
about  the  Wonderstone,  and  what  magic  it  had  wrought. 

"O  most  marvellous  Mulla-mulgar,"  she  said,  "I  think, 
if  I  could  see  but  once  this  Wonderstone — I  think  I  should 
be  never  sad  again." 

Nod  turned  away,  glancing  over  his  shoulder  to  where, 
leaning  amid  the  stars,  hung  the  distant  darkness  of  Mul- 
garmeerez.  He  slowly  unfastened  his  ivory-buttoned 
pocket  and  groped  for  the  Wonderstone.  Holding  it 
tight  in  his  bare  brown  palm,  he  scrambled  down  a  little 
nearer  to  the  water,  and  unlatched  his  fingers  to  show  it 
to  the  Midden.  But  now,  to  his  astonishment,  instead  of 
glooming  pale  as  a  little  moon,  it  burned  angry  as  Antares. 

The  Water-midden  peeped  out  between  her  hair,  and 
laughed  and  clapped  her  hands.  "Oh,  but  if  I  might  but 
hold  it  in  my  hand  one  moment,  I  think  that  I  should 
never  even  sigh  again!"  said  she.  Nod's  fingers  closed  on 
the  Wonderstone  again. 

"I  may  not,"  he  said. 

"Then,"  said  the  Water-midden  sorrowfully,  "I  will 
not  ask." 

"My  mother  told  me,"  said  Nod. 

But  the  Water-midden  seemed  not  now  to  be  listening. 
She  began  to  smooth  and  sleek  her  hair,  sprinkling  the 
ice-cold  water  upon  it,  so  that  the  drops  ran  glittering 
down  those  slippery  paths  like  dew. 

-247— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"Midden,  Midden,"  said  Nod  quickly,  "I  did  not  mean 
to  say  any  unkindness.  You  would  give  me  back  my 
Wonderstone  very  quickly?" 

"Oh,  but,  gentle  Mulla-mulgar,"  said  the  Midden,  "my 
hands  are  cold;  they  might  put  out  its  fiery  flame." 

"I  do  not  think  so,  most  beautiful  JNIidden,"  Nod  said. 
"Show^  me  your  fingers,  and  let  me  see." 

Both  sly  tiny  hands,  colder  than  ice-water,  the  beautiful 
Water-midden  outstretched  towards  him.  He  gazed, 
stooping  out  of  his  ugliness,  into  those  eyes  whose  dark- 
ness was  only  shadowy  green,  clearer  than  the  mountain- 
water.  For  an  instant  he  waited,  then  he  shut  his  eyes 
and  put  the  burning  Wonderstone  into  those  two  small  icy 
hands.  "Return  it  to  me  quicklj^ — quickly.  Midden,  or 
Tishnar  will  be  angered  against  me.  How  must  the 
Meermut  of  my  mother  now  be  mourning!" 

But  the  Midden  had  drawn  back  amid  the  reeds,  hold- 
ing tight  the  ruby-red  stone  in  her  small  hands,  and  her 
eyes  looked  all  darkened  and  slant,  and  her  small  scarlet 
mouth  was  curled.  "Can  you  not  trust  me  but  a  moment, 
Prince  of  the  Mulgars?" 

And  suddenly  a  loud,  hoarse  voice  broke  out:  "Nod  ho, 
Nod  ho!     Ulla  ulla!     Nod  ho!"     Nod  started  back. 

"Oh,  Midden,  Midden!"  he  said,  "it  is  my  brother, 
Mulla  Thumma,  calling  me.  Give  me  my  Wonderstone ; 
I  must  go  at  once." 

But  the  IVIidden  was  now  rocking  and  floating  on  the 
shadowy  water,  her  bright  hair  sleeking  the  stream  be- 
hind her.  Her  face  was  all  small  mischief.  "Let  me 
make  magic  but  once,"  said  she,  "and  I  will  return  it. 
Stop,  Prince  Ummanodda  Nizzanares  Eengeneela!" 

—248— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"I  cannot  wait,  not  wait.  Have  pity  on  me,  most  beau- 
tiful Midden.  I  did  but  put  it  into  your  hands  for  friend- 
ship's sake.     Return  it  to  me  now.     Tishnar  listens." 

"Ummanodda!  Ahoh,  ahoh,  ahoh!"  bawled  Thumb's 
harsh  voice,  coming  nearer. 

"Oh,  harsh  and  angry  voice,"  cried  the  Midden,  "it 
frightens  me — it  frightens  me.  To-morrow,  in  the  night- 
time, Mulla-mulgar,  come  again.  I  will  guard  and  keep 
your  Wonderstone.     Call  me,  call  me.     I  will  come." 

There  was  a  sudden  pale  and  golden  swirl  of  water.  A 
light  as  of  amber  floated  an  instant  on  the  dark,  gliding 
clearness  of  the  torrent.  Nod  stood  up  dazed  and  trem- 
bling. The  Water-midden  was  gone.  His  eyes  glanced  to 
and  fro.  Desolate  and  strange  rose  Tishnar 's  peak.  He 
felt  small  and  afraid  in  the  silence  of  the  mountains.  And 
again  broke  out,  hollow  and  mournful.  Thumb's  voice 
calling  him.  Nod  hobbled  and  hid  himself  behind  a  tree. 
Then  from  tree  to  tree  he  scurried  in,  hiding  under  great 
ropes  of  Cullum  and  Samarak,  until  at  last,  as  if  he  had 
been  wandering  in  the  forest,  he  came  out  from  behind 
Thumb. 

"What  is  it,  my  brother?"  he  asked  softly.  "Why  do 
you  call  me?     Here  is  Nod." 

Thumb's  eyes  gladdened,  but  his  face  looked  black  and 
louring.  "Why  do  you  play  such  Munza  tricks,"  he  said 
— "hiding  from  us  in  the  night?  How  am  I  to  know  what 
small  pieces  you  may  not  have  been  dashed  into  on  this 
slippery  Arakkaboa?  What  beasts  may  not  have  chosen 
Mulla-skeeto  for  supper?  Come  back,  foolish  baby,  and 
have  no  more  of  this  creeping  and  hiding!" 

Nod  burned  with  shame  and  rage  at  his  jeers,  but  he 

-249— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

felt  too  miserable  to  answer  him.  He  followed  slowly 
after  his  brother,  his  small,  lean,  hungry  hand  thrust  deep 
into  his  empty  pocket.  "O  Midden,  Midden!"  he  kept 
saying  to  himself;  "why  were  you  false  to  me?  What 
evil  did  I  do  to  you  that  you  should  have  stolen  my  Won- 
derstone?" 

A  thick  grey  curtain  hung  over  the  night,  though  day- 
break must  be  near.  A  few  heavy  hailstones  scattered 
down  through  the  still  branches.  And  athwart  Moot  and 
JNIulgarmeerez  a  distant  thunder  rolled.  "Follow  quick, 
Walk-by-night,"  said  Thumb;  "a  storm  is  brewing." 

The  men  of  the  Mountains  were  all  awake,  squatting 
like  grasshoppers,  and  gossiping  together  close  about  their 
watch-fire.  Wind  swept  from  the  mountain-snows, 
swirling  sparks  into  the  air,  and  streamed  moaning  into  the 
ravines.  And  soon  lightning  glimmered  blue  and  wan 
across  the  roaring  clouds  of  hail,  and  lit  the  enormous  hills 
with  glimpses  of  their  everlasting  snows.  The  travellers 
sheltered  themselves  as  best  they  could,  crouched  close  to 
the  ground.  Nod  threw  himself  down  and  drew  his  sheep- 
skin over  his  head.  His  heart  was  beating  thick  and  fast. 
He  could  think  of  nothing  but  his  stolen  Wonderstone  and 
the  dark  eyes  of  the  yellow-haired  Water-midden. 
"Tishnar  is  angry — Tishnar  is  angry,"  he  kept  whispering, 
beneath  the  roar  of  the  hail.  "She  has  forsaken  me.  Nod- 
dle of  Pork  that  Nod  is." 


-250— 


CHAPTER  XXII 


When  at  last  day  streamed  in  silver  across  the  peaks,  the 
storm  had  spent  itself.  But  Nod  did  not  stir,  nor  draw 
near  to  the  fire  to  drink  of  the  hot  pepper-water  the  travel- 
lers had  brewed  against  the  cold.  Thumb  came  at  last  and 
stooped  over  him.  "Get  up  now,  Ummanodda,  little 
brother,  and  do  not  mope  and  sulk  any  more.  I  was  angry 
because  I  was  afraid.  How  should  we  have  gone  a  day  in 
safety  without  the  Nizza-neela  and  his  Wonderstone? 
Come  nearer  to  the  fire,  and  dry  your  sodden  sheep's- 
coat." 

Nod  crept  forlornly  to  the  fire,  and  sat  there  shivering. 
He  could  not  eat.  He  crouched  low  on  his  heels,  nor  paid 
any  heed  to  what  was  said  or  done  around  him.  And 
presently  he  fell  into  a  cold,  uneasy  sleep,  full  of  dreadful 
dreams  and  voices.  When  he  awoke,  he  peered  sullenly 
out  of  his  jacket,  and  saw  Ghibba  with  three  of  the  five 
Moona-mulgars  that  he  had  taken  with  him  sitting  hunched 
up  round  the  fire.     They  had  come  back  bruised  and  be- 

r— 251— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

draggled,  and  torn  with  thorns.  One  of  them,  stumbling 
in  the  gloom  on  the  green  rocks,  had  fallen  headlong  into 
the  cataract,  and  had  not  been  seen  again;  and  one  had 
been  pounced  on  and  carried  off  by  some  unknown  beast 
while  they  were  hobbling  back  in  the  torchless  darkness 
towards  the  beacon  above  the  cataract.  There  was  no 
way  beyond  the  ravine.  All  was  dense  low  forest,  rocks 
and  thorns,  and  pouring  waterways.  And  the  travellers 
knew  not  what  to  be  doing. 

Nod  could  not  bear  to  look  at  them  nor  listen  to  their 
lisping,  mournful  voices.  He  covered  up  his  face  again, 
weary  of  the  journey  and  of  the  dream  of  Tishnar's  Val- 
leys, weary  of  his  brothers,  of  the  very  daylight,  but  wear- 
iest of  himself. 

After  long  palaver,  Ghibba  came  shuffling  over  to  him, 
and  sat  down  beside  him. 

"Is  the  MuUa-mulgar  ill,  that  he  sits  alone,  hiding  his 
eyes?"  he  said. 

Nod  shook  his  head.  "I  am  in  my  second  sleep, 
Mountain-mulgar.  A  little  frost  has  cankered  my  bones. 
It  is  the  Harp  Nod  hears,  not  Zevvera's  zoots." 

Ghibba  sat  with  a  very  solemn  look  on  his  grey  scarred 
face.  "The  Mulla-mulgars  say  there  can  be  no  turning 
back,  Nizza-neela.  And,  by  the  way  I  have  come,  it  is 
certain  that  there  is  no  going  onward.  Then,  say  they, 
being  Mulgars-of-a-race,  we  must  float  with  the  mountain- 
water  into  the  great  cavern,  and  trust  our  hearts  to  the 
fishes.  INIaybe  it  will  carry  us  to  where  every  shadow 
comes  atjlast ;  maybe  these  are  the  waters  of  the  Fountains 
of  Assasimmon." 

"I  see  no  boat,"  yapped  Nod  scornfully.     "The  only 

—252— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

boat  my  brothers  ever  floated  in  was  an  old  Gunga's 
Oomgar-nugga's  bobberie  that  now  is  a  nest  in  Obea- 
Munza  for  Coccadrilloes'  eggs." 

"Already  my  people  are  gathering  branches,"  said 
Ghibba,  "to  make  floating  mats  or  rafts,  such  as  I  saw  one 
of  the  Fishing-mulgars  squatting  on  while  he  dangled  his 
tail  for  fish-^bait.  Comfort  your  weary  bones,  then,  Een- 
genares.  Tishnar,  who  guards  you,  Tishnar,  whose 
Prince  you  are,  Tishnar,  who  feasted  even  Utts  like  me 
on  fruits  of  sleeping-time,  will  not  forsake  us  now." 

Nod  turned  cold,  and  trembling,  as  if  to  tell  this  solemn 
Man  of  the  Mountains  that  his  Wonderstone  was  gone. 
But  he  swallowed  his  spittle,  and  was  ashamed.  So  he 
rose  up  and  listlessly  hobbled  after  him  to  where  the  rest 
of  the  travellers  were  toiling  to  gather  branches  for  their 
rafts. 

The  storm  had  snapped  and  stripped  off  many  branches 
from  the  trees.  These  the  travellers  dragged  down  to  the 
water.  Others  they  hauled  down  with  Cullum  ropes,  and 
some  smaller  saplings  they  charred  through  with  fire  at  the 
root.  When  they  had  heaped  together  a  big  pile  of 
boughs  and  Samarak,  Cullum  and  all  kinds  of  greenery, 
Ghibba  and  Thumb  bound  them  clumsily  one  by  one  to- 
gether, letting  them  float  out  on  to  the  water,  until  the  raft 
was  large  and  buoyant  enough  to  bear  two  or  three  Mul- 
gars  with  their  bags.  For  one  great  raft  that  would  have 
carried  them  all  in  safety  would  have  been  too  unwieldy  to 
enter  the  mouth  of  the  cavern,  besides  being  harder  for 
these  ignorant  sailors  to  navigate.  The  torrent  flowed 
swiftly  into  the  cavern.  And  if  but  two  or  three  sailed  in 
together,  Fortune  might  drown  or  lose  many  in  the  dark 

—253— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

windings  of  the  mountain-water,  but  one  or  two  at  least 
might  escape. 

They  toiled  on  till  evening,  by  which  time  four  strong 
green  rafts  bobbed  side  by  side  at  their  mooring-ropes  on 
the  water.  Then,  tired  out,  sore  and  blistered  with  their 
day's  labours,  the  travellers  heaped  up  a  great  watch-fire 
once  more,  and  supped  merrily  together,  since  it  might  be 
for  many  of  them  for  the  last  time.  Nor  did  the  moun- 
tain-mulgars  raise  their  drone  for  their  kinsfolk  beneath 
the  cataract,  wishing  to  keep  a  brave  heart  for  the  dangers 
before  them. 

Only  Nod  sat  gloomy  and  downcast,  waiting  impa- 
tiently till  all  should  be  lying  fast  asleep.  One  by  one 
the  outwearied  travellers  laid  themselves  down,  with  the 
palms  of  their  feet  towards  the  fire.  Nod  heard  the  calling 
of  the  beasts  in  the  ravine,  and  ever  and  again  from  far  up 
the  mountain-side  broke  out  the  long  hungry  howl  of  the 
little  wolves.  Only  Nod  and  the  Mountain-mulgar  whose 
turn  it  was  to  keep  watch  were  now  awake.  He  was  a 
queer  old  Mulgar,  blind  of  one  eye,  but  he  could  stand 
wide  awake  for  hours  mumbling  in  his  mouth  a  shaving  of 
their  blue  cheese-rind.  And  when  he  had  turned  his  back 
for  a  moment  on  the  fire.  Nod  wriggled  softly  away,  and, 
hobbling  off  into  the  forest,  soon  reached  the  water-side. 

He  crept  forward  under  the  gigantic  dragon-tree,  and 
down  the  steep  bank  to  the  little  creek  where  he  had  first 
heard  the  singing  of  the  Water-midden.  All  was  shadowy 
and  still.  Only  the  dark  water  murmured  in  its  stony 
channel,  and  the  faint  night-wind  rustled  in  the  sedge. 
Nod  leaned  on  his  belly  over  the  water,  and,  gazing  into 
it,  called  as  softly  and  clearly  as  his  harsh  voice  could: 

—254— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"Water-midden,  Water-midden,  here  am  I,  Ummanodda, 
come  as  you  bade  me." 

No  one  answered.  He  stooped  lower,  and  called  again. 
"It  is  me,  the  Mulla-mulgar,  child  of  Tishnar,  who  trusted 
to  you  his  Wonderstone,  beautiful  Midden.  Nod,  who 
believed  in  you,  calls — your  friend,  the  sorrowful  Nod!" 

"Sing,  Mulla-mulgar!"  croaked  a  scornful  sedge-bird. 
"The  Princess  loves  sweet  music." 

A  lean  fish  of  the  changing  colours  of  a  cherry  swam 
softly  to  the  glimmering  surface  and  stared  at  Nod. 

"Tell  me,  Jacket-of-Loveliness,"  whispered  Nod, 
"where  is  thy  mistress  that  she  does  not  answer  me?" 

The  fish  stared  solemnly  on  wavering  fin. 

"Hsst,  brother,"  said  Nod,  and  let  fall  a  bunch  of  Soota- 
berries  into  the  stream.  The  fish  leapt  in  the  water,  and 
caught  the  little  fruit  in  its  thin,  curved  teeth,  and  nibbled 
greedily  till  all  was  gone.  Whereupon,  staring  solemnly 
at  Nod  once  more,  he  let  the  leaves  and  stalk  float  onward 
with  the  stream,  then  with  a  flash  and  flicker  of  tail  dived 
down,  down,  and  was  gone.  All  again  was  silent.  Only 
the  blazing  stars  and  the  shadowy  phantoms  of  the  distant 
firelight  moved  on  the  water. 

"O  Tishnar,"  muttered  the  little  Mulgar  to  himself, 
"help  once  this  wretched  Nod !" 

Suddenly,  as  he  watched,  as  if  it  were  the  amber  or 
ivory  beam  of  a  lantern  in  the  water,  he  saw  a  pale  bright- 
ness ascending.  And  all  in  a  moment  the  Water-midden 
was  there  rocking  on  the  dark  green  water  beneath  the 
arching  sedge.  But  her  hands,  when  Nod  looked  to  see, 
were  empty,  floating  like  rose-leaves  open  on  the  water. 
But  he  spoke  gently,  for  he  could  not  look  into  her  beauti- 

—255— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

ful  wild  face,  and  her  eyes,  that  were  hke  the  forest  for 
darkness  and  the  moonht  mountains  of  Tishnar  for  love- 
liness, and  still  be  angry,  nor  even  sad. 

"Tell  me,  O  Water-midden,  where  is  my  Wonder- 
stone?"  he  said. 

The  Water-midden  smoothed  slowly  back  her  gold 
locks.  "You  told  me  false,  Mulla-mulgar,"  she  answered. 
"All  day  long  have  I  been  sitting  rubbing,  rubbing  with 
my  small  tired  thumb,  but  no  magic  has  answered.  It  is 
but  a  common  water-pebble  roughened  into  the  beasts' 
shapes.     It  means  nothing,  and  I  am  weary." 

And  Nod  guessed  she  had  been  rubbing  the  Wonder- 
stone  craft  to  cudgel,  and  not  as  the  magic  went,  sama- 
weeza — right  to  left. 

"  If  it  is  but  a  water-pebble,  give  it  back  to  me,  then, 
Midden,  for  it  was  my  mother  who  gave  it  me." 

But  the  Midden  smiled  with  her  red  lips.  "You  did 
deceive  me,  then,  Mulla-mulgar,  so  that  you  might  seem 
strange  and  wonderful,  and  far  above  the  other  hoarse- 
voiced  travellers,  the  beloved  of  Tishnar?  You  may  de- 
ceive me  again,  perhaps.  I  think  I  will  not  give  you  back 
your  stone.  Perhaps,  too,"  she  said,  throwing  back  her 
tiny  chin,  so  that  her  face  lay  like  a  flower  in  leaves  of  gold 
— "perhaps  I  rubbed  not  wisely.     You  shall  tell  me  how." 

"Show  me,  then,  my  Wonderstone.  I  am  tired  out  for 
want  of  sleep,  and  long  no  more  for  Tishnar's  fountains." 

Then  the  Midden  floated  out  into  the  middle  of  the 
stream,  and  with  one  light  hand  kept  herself  in  front  of 
Nod,  her  narrow  shoulders  slowly  twirling  the  while  in  the 
faintly-rosied  starlight.  She  took  with  the  other  a  long 
thick  strand  of  her  hair,  and,  unwinding  it  slowly,  pres- 

—256— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

ently  out  of  it  let  fall  into  her  palm  the  angry-flaming 
Wonderstone.  "See,  Mulla-mulgar,  here  is  yom-  Won- 
derstone.  Now  in  patience  tell  me  how  to  make 
magic." 

And  Nod  said  softly:  "Float  but  a  span  nearer  to  me, 
Midden — a  span  and  just  a  half  a  span." 

And  the  Water-midden  drew  in  a  little,  still  softly 
twirling. 

"Oh,  but  just  a  thumb-nail  nearer,"  said  Nod. 

Laughing,  she  floated  in  closer  yet,  till  her  beautiful  eyes 
were  looking  up  into  his  bony  and  wrinkled  face.  Then 
with  a  sudden  spring  he  thrust  his  hand  deep  into  the  silken 
mesh  of  her  hair  and  held  tight. 

She  moved  not  a  finger;  she  still  looked  laughing  up. 
"Listen,  listen.  Midden,"  he  said:  "I  will  not  harm  you — 
I  could  not  harm  you,  beautiful  one,  though  you  never 
gave  me  back  my  Wonderstone  again,  and  I  wandered 
forsaken  till  I  died  of  hunger  in  the  forest.  What  use  is 
the  stone  to  you  now?  Tishnar  is  angry.  See  how 
wildly  it  burns  and  sulks.  Give  it,  then,  into  my  hand, 
and  I  promise — not  a  promise.  Midden,  fading  in  one 
evening — I  will  give  you  any  one  thing  else  whatsoever  it 
is  you  ask." 

And  the  Water-midden  looked  up  at  him  unfrightened, 
and  saw  the  truth  and  kindness  in  his  eyes.  "Be  not 
angry  with  me,  little  brother,"  she  answered.  "I  did  not 
pretend  with  you,  sorrowful  Nizza-neela !"  And  she 
dropped  the  Wonderstone  into  his  outstretched  hand. 

Tears  sprang  up  into  Nod's  tired,  aching  eyes.  He 
smoothed  softly  with  his  hairy  fingers  the  golden  strands 
floating  in  the  ice-cold  water.     "Till  I  die,  O  beautiful 

—237— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

one,"  he  said,  "I  will  not  forget  you.  Tell  me  your 
wish !" 

Then  the  Water-midden  looked  long  and  gravely  at  him 
out  of  darkling  eyes.  She  put  out  her  hand  and  touched 
his.  "This  shall  be  my  sorrowful  wish,  little  Mulgar:  it 
is  that  when  you  and  your  brothers  come  at  last  to  the 
Kingdom  of  Assasimmon,  and  the  Valleys  of  Tishnar,  you 
will  not  forget  me." 

"O  Midden,"  Nod  answered,  "it  needed  no  asking — 
that.  It  may  be  we  shall  never  reach  the  Valleys.  For 
now  we  must  plunge  into  the  water-cavern  on  our  floating 
rafts,  and  all  is  haste  and  danger.  But  I  mind  no  danger 
now.  Midden.  That  Mulla-mulgar,  my  father  Seelem, 
chose  to  wander,  and  not  to  sit  fat  and  idle  with  Princes. 
So,  too,  would  I.  Tell  me  a  harder  wish.  Ask  anything. 
Water-midden,  and  my  Wonderstone  shall  give  it  you." 

And  the  Water-midden  gazed  sorrowfully  into  his  face. 
"That  is  all  I  ask,  Mulla-mulgar,"  she  repeated  softly — 
"that  you  will  not  forget  me.  I  fear  the  Wonderstone. 
All  day  it  has  been  crickling  and  burning  in  my  hair.  All 
that  I  ask,  I  ask  only  of  you."  So  Nod  stooped  once 
more  over  that  gold  and  beauty,  and  he  promised  the 
Water-midden. 

And  she  drew  out  a  slender,  fine  strand  of  her  hair,  and 
cut  it  through  with  the  sharp  edge  of  a  little  shell,  and  she 
wound  it  seven  time  round  Nod's  left  wrist.  "There," 
she  said;  "that  will  bid  you  remember  me  when  you  come 
to  the  end.  Have  no  fear  of  the  waters,  Nizza-neela ;  my 
people  will  watch  over  you." 

And  Nod  could  not  think  what  in  his  turn  to  give  the 
Water-midden  for  a  remembrance  and  a  keepsake.     So 

—258— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

he  gave  her  Battle's  silver  groat  with  the  hole  in  it,  and 
hung  it  upon  a  slender  shred  of  CuUum  round  her  neck, 
and  he  tore  off  also  one  of  the  five  out  of  his  nine  ivory  but- 
tons that  still  clung  to  his  coat,  and  gave  her  that,  too. 

"And  if  my  brothers  stay  here  one  day  more,  come  in  the 
darkness,  O  Water-midden ;  I  shall  not  sleep  for  thinking 
of  you."  And  he  said  good-bye  to  her,  kneeling  above  the 
dark  water.  But  long  after  he  had  safely  wrapped  his 
Wonderstone  in  the  blood-stained  leaf  from  Battle's  little 
book  again,  and  had  huddled  himself  down  beside  the 
slumbering  travellers,  he  still  seemed  to  hear  the  forlorn 
singing  of  the  Water-midden,  and  in  his  eyes  her  small 
face  haunted,  amid  the  darkness  of  his  dreams. 

All  the  next  morning  the  travellers  slaved  at  their  rafts. 
They  made  them  narrow  and  buoyant  and  very  strong, 
for  they  knew  not  what  might  lie  beyond  the  mouth  of  the 
cavern.  And  now  the  sun  shone  down  so  fiercely  that  the 
Mulgars,  climbing,  hacking,  dragging  at  the  branches, 
and  moiling  to  and  fro  betwixt  forest  and  water,  teased  by 
flies  and  stinging  ants,  hardly  knew  what  to  do  for  the 
heat.  Thumb  and  Thimble  stripped  off  the  few  rags  left 
of  their  red  jackets,  and  worked  in  their  skins  with  better 
comfort.  And  they  laughed  at  Nod  for  sweating  on  in  his 
wool. 

"Look,  Thumb,"  laughed  Thimble,  peering  out  from 
under  a  tower  of  greenery,  "the  little  Prince  is  so  vain  of 
his  tattered  old  sheep's- jacket  that  he  won't  walk  in  his 
bare  an  instant,  yet  he  is  so  hot  he  can  scarcely  breathe." 

Nod  made  no  answer,  but  worked  stolidly  on,  bunched 
up  in  his  hot  jacket,  because  he  feared  if  he  went  bare  his 
brothers  would  see  the  thin  strand  of  bright  hair  about 

—259— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

his  wrist,  and  mock  at  the  Midden.  When  the  sun  was  at 
noon  the  Mulgars  had  finished  the  building  of  their  rafts. 
They  lay  merrily  bobbing  in  a  long  string  moored  to  an 
Ollaconda  on  the  swift-running  water.  They  tied  up 
bundles  of  nuts,  and  old  Nanoes,  roots,  and  pepper-pods, 
and  scores  of  torches,  and  bound  these  down  securely  to 
the  smallest  of  the  rafts.  Then,  wearied  out,  with  sting- 
swollen  chops  and  bleeding  hands,  they  raised  their 
shadow-blankets,  and  having  bound  up  their  heads  with 
cool  leaves,  all  lay  down  beside  the  embers  of  their  last 
night's  fire  for  the  "glare." 

There  were  now  seventeen  travellers,  and  they  had  built 
nine  light  rafts — two  Mulgars  for  every  raft,  except  two; 
one  of  which  two  was  wide  enough  to  float  in  comfort  three 
of  the  lighter  Moona-mulgars,  who  weigh  scarce  more 
than  Meermuts  at  the  best  of  times;  the  other  and  least 
was  for  their  bundles  and  torches  and  all  such  stuff  as 
they  needed,  over  and  above  what  each  Mulgar  carried 
for  himself. 

In  the  full  and  stillness  of  afternoon  they  ate  their  last 
meal  this  side  of  Arakkaboa,  and  beat  out  their  fire.  A 
sprinkle  of  hail  fell,  hopping  on  their  heads  as  they  stood 
in  the  sunshine  making  ready  to  put  off.  It  seemed  as  if 
there  would  never  come  an  end  to  their  labour,  and  many 
a  strange  face  stared  down  on  them  from  the  brooding  gal- 
leries of  the  forest. 


—260- 


CHAPTER  XXIII 


At  last,  after  fixing  a  lighted  torch  between  the  logs  of 
each  raft,  the  Mulgars  began  to  get  aboard.  On  the  first 
Ghibba  and  Thimble  embarked,  squatting  the  one  in  front 
and  the  other  astern,  to  keep  their  craft  steady.  With  big 
torches  smoking  in  the  sunshine,  they  pushed  off.  Tug- 
ging on  a  long  strand  of  Samarak  which  they  had  looped 
around  the  smooth  branch  of  a  Boobab,  they  warped 
themselves  free.  Soon  well  adrift,  with  water  singing  in 
their  green  twigs,  they  slid  swiftly  into  the  stream,  shov- 
ing and  pulling  at  their  long  poles,  beating  the  green  water 
to  foam,  as  they  neared  the  fork,  to  keep  their  dancing 
catamaran  from  drifting  into  the  surge  that  would  have 
toppled  them  over  the  cataract.  The  rest  of  the  travellers 
stood  stock-still  by  the  water-side,  gazing  beneath  their 
hands  after  the  green  ship  and  its  two  sailors,  dark  and 
light,  brandishing  their  poles.  They  followed  along  the 
bank  as  far  as  they  could,  standing  lean  in  the  evening 

—261— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

beams,  wheezing  shrilly,  "Illaloothi,  Illaloothi!"  as  Moona 
and  MuUa-niuIgar  floated  into  the  mouth  of  the  cavern 
and  vanished  from  sight. 

One  after  another  the  rest  swept  off,  their  rafts  dancing 
light  as  corks  on  the  emerald  water,  each  with  its  flaming 
torch  fast  fixed,  and  its  two  struggling  Mulgars  tugging 
at  their  long  water-poles.  And  as  each  raft  drifted  be- 
neath the  lowering  arch  of  the  cavern,  the  Mulgars  aboard 
her  raised  aloft  their  poles  for  farewell  to  Mulgarmeerez. 
Last  of  all  Thumb  loosed  his  mooring-rope,  and  with  the 
baggage-raft  in  tow  cast  off  with  Nod  into  the  stream. 
Pale  sunshine  lay  on  the  evening  frost  and  gloom  of  the 
forests,  and  far  in  the  distance  wheeled  Kippel,  capped 
with  snow,  as  the  raft  rocked  round  the  curve  and  floated 
nearer  and  nearer  to  the  cavern.  Nod  squatted  low  at  the 
stern,  his  pole  now  idly  drifting,  while  behind  him  bobbed 
the  baggage-raft,  tethered  by  its  rope  of  Cullum.  He 
stared  into  the  flowing  water,  and  it  seemed  out  of  its 
deeps,  faintly  echoing,  rang  the  voice  of  the  sorrowful 
Water-midden,  bidding  him  farewell.  And  when 
Thumb's  back  was  for  a  moment  turned,  he  tore  out  of  the 
tousled  wool  of  his  jacket  another  of  his  ivory  buttons, 
and,  lying  flat  in  the  leafy  twigs,  dropped  it  softly  into 
the  stream.  "There,  little  brother,"  he  whispered  to  the 
button,  "tell  the  beautiful  Midden  I  remembered  her  last 
of  all  things  when  the  hoarse-voiced  Mulgars  sailed 
away  I 

Green  and  dark  and  utterly  still  Arakkaboa's  southern 
forests  drew  backward,  with  the  westering  sun  beaming 
hazily  behind  their  nameless  peaks.  Nod  heard  a  sullen 
wash  of  water,  the  picture  narrowed,  faded,  darkened, 

—262— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

and  in  a  moment  they  were  floating  in  an  inky  darkness, 
lit  only  by  the  dim  and  wavering  light  of  the  torches. 

The  cavern  widened  as  the  rafts  drew  inward.  But 
the  Mulgars  with  their  poles  drove  them  into  the  middle  of 
the  stream,  for  here  the  current  ran  faster,  and  they  feared 
their  leafy  craft  might  be  caught  by  overhanging  rocks 
near  the  cavern  walls.  A  host  of  long-eared  bats,  startled 
from  sleep  by  the  echoing  cries  and  splashings,  and  the 
smoke  of  the  torches,  unliooked  their  leathery  hoods,  and, 
mousily  glancing,  came  flitting  this  way,  that  way,  squeak- 
ing shrilly  as  if  scolding  the  hairy  sailors.  They  re- 
minded Nod  of  the  chattering  troops  of  Skeetoes  swinging 
on  their  frosty  ropes  in  the  gloom  of  Munza-mulgar. 
When  with  smoother  water  the  raftsmen's  shouts  were 
hushed,  a  strange  silence  swept  down  upon  the  travellers. 
Nod  glanced  up  uneasily  at  the  faintly  shimmering  roof 
hung  with  pale  spars.  Only  the  sip  and  whisper  of  the 
water  could  be  heard,  and  the  faint  crackle  of  the  dry 
torch-wood.  Thumb  flapped  the  water  impatiently  with 
his  long  pole.  "Ugh,  Ummanodda,  this  hole  of  darkness 
chills  my  bones.     Sing,  child,  sing!" 

"What  shall  I  sing.  Thumb?" 

"Sing  that  jingling  lingo  the  blood-supping  Oomgar- 
mulgar  ta\ight  you.     How  goes  it? — 'Pore  Benoleben.'  " 

So  in  the  dismal  water-caverns  of  Arakkaboa  Nod  sang 
out  in  his  seesaw  voice,  to  please  his  brother.  Battle's  old 
English  song,  "Poor  Ben,  old  Ben." 

"Widecks   awas' 
Widevry    sea, 
An'  flyin'  scud 
For  companee, 
—263— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

01c  Benporbcn 

Keepz  watcherlonc: 
Boatz,  zails,  helmaimust, 

Compaz  gone. 

"Not  twone  ovall 

'Is  shippimuts  can 
Pipe  pup  ta  prove 

'Im  livin'  man: 
One  indescuppers 

Flappziz    'and, 
Fiss-like,  as  3^ou 

May  yunnerstand. 

**An'  one  bracedup 

Azzif  to  weat, 
'Az  aldy  deck 

For  watery  zeat; 
Andwidda  zteep 

Unwonnerin'  eye 
Ztares    zon    tossed    sea 

An'  emputy  zky. 
Pore  Benoleben, 
Pore-Benn-ole-Ben !" 

When  Nod's  last  quavering  drawl  had  died  away, 
Thumb  lifted  up  his  own  hoarse,  grating  voice  in  the  si- 
lence that  followed,  and  as  if  with  one  consent,  the  travel- 
lers broke  into  "Dubbuldideery." 

It  seemed  as  if  the  walls  would  shatter  and  the  roof  come 
tumbling  down  at  their  prodigious  hullabaloo.  The  bats 
raced  to  and  fro.  Scores  of  fishes  pushed  up  their  snouts 
round  Nod's  raft,  and  gazed  with  curious  faces  into  the 
torchlight.     The  water  was  all  astir  with  their  disquietude. 

—264— 


i 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

But  in  the  midst  of  the  song  there  sounded  a  shrill  and 
hasty  cry:  "Down  all!" 

Only  just  in  time  had  Ghibba  seen  their  danger,  and 
almost  before  the  shrill  echo  had  died  away,  and  Thimble 
had  cast  himself  flat,  their  raft  was  swirled  under  a  huge 
rock,  blossoming  with  quartz,  that  hung  down  almost  to 
the  surface  of  the  water.  Thimble's  jacket  was  ripped 
collar  to  hem  as  he  slid  under,  lying  as  close  as  he  could. 
And  the  bobbing  raft  of  baggage  behind  them  was  torn 
away  in  a  twinkling,  so  that  now  all  the  food  and  torches 
the  Mulgars  had  was  what  each  carried  for  himself.  They 
dared  not  stir  nor  lift  their  heads,  for  still  the  fretted  roof 
arched  close  above  the  water.  And  so  they  drifted  on  and 
on,  their  torches  luckily  burnt  low,  until  at  length  the  ca- 
vern widened,  the  roof  lifted,  and  they  burst  one  by  one 
into  a  great  chamber  of  smooth  water,  its  air  filled 
strangely  with  a  faint  phosphorescence,  so  that  every  spar 
and  jag  of  rock  gleamed  softly  with  coloured  light  as  they 
paddled  their  course  slowly  through.  In  this  great  cham- 
ber they  stayed  awhile,  for  there  was  scarcely  any  current 
of  water  against  its  pillared  sides.  With  their  rafts  clus- 
tering and  moored  together,  they  shared  out  equally  what 
nuts,  dry  fruit,  and  unutterably  mouldy  cheese  remained, 
and  divided  the  torches  equally  between  them,  except  that 
Ghibba,  who  led  the  way,  had  two  for  every  one  of  the 
others. 

These  thin  grey  waters  swarmed  with  fish,  but  all,  it 
seemed,  nearly  blind,  with  scarcely  visible  eyes  above  their 
snouts.  Some  of  the  bigger  fish,  with  clapping  jaws,  cast 
themselves  in  range  or  hunger  against  the  rafts.  And 
the  Mulgars,  seeing  their  teeth,  took  good  heed  to  couch 

—265— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

themselves  close  in  the  midst  of  their  rafts.  The  longer 
they  stayed,  the  thicker  grew  the  concourse  of  fish  drawn 
together  by  the  noise  and  smell  of  the  travellers,  until  the 
cavern  echoed  with  their  restless  fins  and  a  kind  of  sup- 
ping whisper,  as  if  the  fish  had  speech.  So  the  Mulgars 
pushed  off  again,  laying  about  them  with  their  poles  to 
scare  the  bolder  monsters  off  as  they  gilded  softly  into  the 
sluggish  current,  until  the  channel  narrowed  again,  and 
their  speed  freshened. 

On  and  on  they  drifted.  On  and  on  the  shimmering 
walls  floated  past  them,  now  near,  now  distant.  They 
lost  all  time.  Some  said  night  must  be  gone;  some  said 
nay,  night  must  have  come  again;  and  to  some  it  seemed 
like  an  evil  dream,  this  drifting,  without  beginning  or  end. 
When  sleep  began  to  hang  heavily  on  Thumb's  eyelids, 
he  bade  Nod  lie  down  and  take  his  fill  of  it  first,  while  he 
himself  kept  watch.  Nod  very  gladly  lay  down  as  com- 
fortably as  he  could  on  the  rough  and  narrow  raft,  and 
Thumb  for  safety  tied  him  close  with  a  strand  of  Cullum. 
He  dreamed  a  hundred  dreams,  rocked  softly  on  the  slid- 
ing raft,  all  of  burning  sunshine,  or  wild  white  moonlight, 
or  of  icy  and  dazzling  Witzaweelwulla ;  but  the  Water-mid- 
den's beauty  haunted  all. 

He  woke  into  almost  pitch-black  gloom,  and,  starting 
up,  could  count  only  four  torches  staining  the  unrippling 
water  with  their  flare.  And,  being  very  thirsty,  he  stooped 
over  with  hollowed  hand,  as  if  to  drink. 

"No,  no,"  said  Thumb  drowsily;  "not  drink,  Nod. 
Sleepy  water — sleepy  water.  INIoona-mulgars  there, 
drunk  and  drunk;  thirstier  and  thirstier,  torches  out — all 
dead  asleep — all  dead  asleep." 

—266— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

"But  my  tongue's  crackling  dry,  Thumb.  Drink  I 
must,  Thumb." 

"Nutshells,"  said  Thumb — "suck  nutshells,  suck  them." 

Nod  took  out  the  last  few  nuts  he  had.  And  in  the 
faint  glowing  of  the  distant  torches  he  could  see  Thumb's 
great  broad-nosed  face  turned  hungrity  towards  them. 

"How  many  nuts  left  have  you,  my  brother?"  Nod  said. 

Thumb  tapped  his  stomach.  "Safe,  safe  all,"  he  said. 
"Nod  slept  on  and  on." 

"Why  did  you  not  wake  me.  Thumb?  Lie  down  now. 
I  am  not  hungry,  only  a  little  thirsty.  Have  these  few 
crackle-shells  before  you  sleep,  old  Thumb."  He  gave 
Thumb  nine  out  of  his  thirteen  nuts,  and  partly  because 
he  was  ravenously  hungry,  partly  because  their  oiliness  a 
little  assuaged  his  thirst.  Thumb  crunched  them  up  hastily, 
shells  and  all.  Then  he  lay  down  on  the  raft,  and  Nod 
tied  his  great  body  on  as  safely  as  he  could. 

There  seemed  to  be  some  tribe  of  creatures  dwelling  in 
this  darkness.  For  Thumb  had  but  a  little  while  lain 
down,  when  the  stream  bore  the  rafts  along  a  smoother 
wall  of  rock,  which  rose,  as  it  were,  to  a  ledge  or  shelf ;  and 
all  along  this  rocky  shelf  Nod  could  see  dim,  rounded 
holes,  of  a  breadth  to  take  with  ease  the  body  of  a  Mulla- 
bruk  or  Manquabee.  He  fancied  even  he  saw  here  and 
there  shadowy  figures  stooping  out.  And  now  and  then  in 
the  hush  he  heard  a  flappity  rustle,  as  of  some  hairy  crea- 
ture scampering  quickly  along  the  ledge  on  four  naked 
feet.  But  he  called  and  called  in  vain.  No  answer  fol- 
lowed, except  a  feeble  hail  from  Thimble's  raft  far  ahead, 
with  its  torches  feebly  twinkling. 

Only  three  of  the  nine  rafts  now  showed  lights,  and  the 

—267— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

last  of  these  had  drifted  in,  and  become  entangled  in  some 
jutting  rock  or  in  the  long,  leathery  weed  that  hung  like 
lichen-coloured  grass  along  the  sides  of  the  cavern.  As 
Nod  drew  slowly  near,  he  saw  that  on  this  raft  both  its 
^lulgars  lay  flat  on  their  faces,  lost  in  their  second  sleep 
from  drinking  of  the  water.  He  pushed  hard  at  his  long 
pole,  and,  leaning  over,  caught  their  strand  of  trailing 
Samarak,  and  hauled  the  raft  safely  into  mid-stream 
again.  He  stirred  and  pommelled  the  INIulgars  with  his 
pole.  But  they  made  no  sign  of  feeling,  except  that  their 
mouths  fell  a  little  ajar.  Then  he  lit  the  last  but  one  of 
his  own  torches  by  the  failing  flame  of  theirs.  But  it 
hovered  sullen  and  blue.  The  air  was  thick.  Each  breath 
he  took  was  heavy  as  a  sigh.  He  was  shrunk  very  meagre 
with  travel,  and  his  little  breathing  bosom  was  nothing  but 
a  slender  cage  of  bones  above  his  heart.  He  crouched 
down  in  the  whispering  solitude.  His  lips  were  cracked, 
his  tongue  like  tinder.  He  mumbled  his  shells  in  vain  be- 
tween his  teeth.  But  from  first  sleep  to  the  second  sleep 
is  but  a  little  journey,  and  thence  to  the  last  the  way  runs 
all  downhill. 

He  chafed  his  eyes,  he  clenched  his  teeth,  he  crooned 
wheezily  all  the  songs  Battle  had  taught  him.  And  now 
once  more  the  cavern  opened  into  a  wide  and  still  lagoon, 
over  whose  grey  floor  phantom  lights  moved  cloudily  be- 
fore the  advancing  rafts.  Its  roof  wanly  blazed  with 
crystals.  And  there  was  no  doubt  now  of  Mulgar  in- 
habitants. They  sat  unmoved  upon  their  rocky  ledges  and 
parapets,  with  puffed-out,  furry  bodies  and  immense 
round,  lustrous  eyes,  with  which  they  steadily  surveyed 
the  worn  and  matted  Mulgars,  some  stretched  in  stupid 

—268— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

slumber,  some  fevered  and  famished,  with  burning  eyes, 
drifting  slowly  past  their  glistening  grottoes.  But  none 
so  much  as  stirred  a  finger  or  paid  any  heed  to  the  Mul- 
gars'  entreaties  for  food.  Only  their  long  ears,  which 
peaked  well  out  of  their  wool,  twitched  and  nodded,  as  if 
their  ducketings  were  a  kind  of  secret  language  between 
them. 

Nod's  raft  swam  last  across  this  weed-mantled  lagoon 
amid  the  moving  light-wisps.  He  called  with  swollen 
tongue:  "O  ubjar  moose  soofree!  ubjar,  ubjar,  moose 
soofree!"  But  there  came  no  answer,  not  the  least  stir 
in  the  creatures ;  only  the  owl-eyes  stared  steadily  on.  He 
lifted  himself  on  trembling  legs,  and  called:  "Walla, 
walla!" 

These  Arakkaboans  only  gloated  on  him,  and  slowly 
turned  their  round  heads,  still  twitching  their  ears  at  one 
another,  as  if  in  some  strange  talk. 

And  Nod  fell  into  a  Munza  rage  at  sight  of  them.  He 
danced  and  gibbered,  and  at  last  caught  up  his  long  water- 
pole,  as  if  to  strike  at  them;  but  it  was  too  heavy  for  him 
after  his  long  thirst ;  he  over-balanced,  threw  out  the  pole, 
and  fell  headlong  on  to  the  raft.  Thumb  muttered  in  his 
sleep,  wagging  his  head.  And  with  parched  lips,  so  close 
to  that  faint-smelling  water,  Nod  could  bear  his  thirst  no 
longer.  He  leaned  over,  cupped  his  hands,  and  sucked  in 
one,  two,  three  delicious  mouthfuls.  Water,  cavern, 
staring  Arakkaboans,  seemed  to  float  away  into  the  dis- 
tance, as  in  a  dream.  And  in  a  little  while,  with  head 
lolling  at  Thumb's  feet,  he  lay  faintly  snoring  beside  his 
brother. 

—269— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Out  of  the  heaviness  of  that  long  sleep  Nod  opened  his 
eyes,  to  find  Thumb's  great  body  stooping  over  him  with 
anxious  face,  shaking  and  pommelling  him,  and  mutter- 
ing harshly:  "Wake,  wake,  Nugget  of  clay!  Wake, 
Mulla-slugga!  The  Valleys!  The  Valleys,  little  Um- 
manodda!     Taste,  taste!  Ummuz,  ummuz,  ummuz!" 

Something  sweeter  than  honey,  something  that  at  one 
taste  wakened  in  memory  Mutta,  and  Seelem,  and  the 
little  Portingal's  hut,  and  Glint's  towering  Ukka-tree,  and 
all  his  childhood,  was  pushed  between  his  teeth.  Nod 
sneezed  three  times,  struggled,  and  sat  up. 

For  a  moment  the  light  blinded  him.  Then  at  last  he 
saw  all  among  a  long  low  stretch  of  rushes,  in  still,  green 
water,  between  the  rafts,  a  picture  of  the  sky.  A  crescent 
moon  hung  like  a  shell  in  the  pale  green  quiet  of  daybreak. 
He  scrambled  to  his  feet,  still  gnawing  his  Ummuz-cane. 
He  saw  Thimble  mumbling  like  a  hungry  dog  over  his 
food,  and  the  lean  shapes  of  the  Moona-mulgars  shuf- 
fling to  and  fro.  On  one  side  rose  the  forests  of  the 
northern  slopes  of  Arakkaboa.  A  warm,  sweet  wind  was 
moving  with  daybreak,  and  only  on  the  heights  next  the 
green  of  the  sky  shone  Tishnar's  unchanging  snows-. 
Flowers  bloomed  everywhere  around  him,  not  vanishing 
flowers  of  magic  now.  And  as  far  as  his  round  eyes 
could  see,  golden  with  Ummuz  and  Immamoosa,  and  silver 
with  dreaming  waters,  stretched  the  long-sought,  lovely 
Valleys  of  Tishnar.  This,  then,  was  -the  Mulgars'  jour- 
ney's end! 

Nod  flung  himself  down  in  the  long  grasses,  and  cried 
as  if  his  heart  would  break.  And  still  with  his  oozy  stick 
of  Ummuz  clutched  between  his  fingers,  he  fell  asleep. 

—270— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

But  soon  came  Ghibba  to  waken  him.  Thumb  and 
Thimble  and  all  the  Moona-mulgars  were  squatting  to- 
gether round  a  little  fire  they  had  kindled  beneath  an 
enormous  tree  by  the  water-side.  Bees,  that  might,  in- 
deed, be  honey-makers  from  Assasimmon's  hives,  were 
droning  in  the  tree-blossoms  overhead,  and  tiny  Tominis- 
coes  flitting  among  the  branches.  It  was  a  wonder,  in- 
deed, that  birds  should  draw  near  such  scarecrow  travel- 
lers. More  like  the  Noomad  of  Jack-Alls  they  sat  than 
honest  Mulgars;  some  toasting  the  last  paring  of  their 
beloved  cheese  to  eat  with  their  Nanoes,  some  with  stones 
pounding  Ummuz,  some  at  their  scratching  and  combing, 
and  one  or  two  worn  out,  bonily  sprawling  in  the  comfort 
of  the  sunbeams  streaming  upon  them  now  from  far  across 
Arakkaboa. 

Beneath  them  lay  the  shallows  of  the  green  lagoon  in 
the  morning.  But  near  at  hand  rose  up  a  gigantic  grove 
of  OUacondas  into  the  windless  sky,  so  that  beyond  these 
the  travellers  could  see  nothing  of  the  farther  country. 

When  they  had  eaten  and  drunk,  and  were  well  rested, 
Thumb  and  Nod,  taking  again  cudgels  in  their  hands, 
started  off  towards  the  hills  that  rose  above  the  cavern, 
of  purpose,  if  need  be,  to  climb  into  the  higher  branches 
of  some  tree,  from  which  they  might  descry,  perhaps, 
what  lay  on  the  other  side  of  this  great  grove. 

Through  the  thick  dews  they  stumped  along  together, 
their  eyes  roving  this  way  and  that,  in  wonder  and  curi- 
osity of  their  way.  And  in  a  while  they  had  climbed  up 
through  the  thick  undergrowth  on  to  a  wide  green  ledge, 
on  which  were  playing  and  scampering  in  the  fresh  sha- 
dows a  host  of  a  kind  of  Weddervols^  but  smaller  and 

—271— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

furrier  than  those  of  Muiiza.  And  now  they  could  see 
beneath  them  the  huge  arch  through  which  their  rafts  had 
floated  out  while  they  lay  snoring. 

White  flocks  of  long-legged  water-birds  were  preening 
their  wings  in  the  shadows,  in  which  rock  and  boughs  and 
farthest  snow  stood  glassed.  There  the  two  JMulgars 
stood,  ragged  and  worn,  snuffing  the  sweet  air,  while 
a  faint  surge  of  singing  rose  from  the  forests  above  their 
heads. 

"It  is  a  big  nest  Tishnar's  water-birds  build,"  said  Nod 
suddenly. 

Thumb's  great  head  turned  on  his  stooping  shoulders, 
and,  with  mouth  ajar,  he  stared  long  and  closely  at  what 
seemed  to  be  a  heap  of  tangled  boughs  washed  up  in  the 
water  far  beneath  them. 

"No  nest,  Ummanodda,"  he  said  at  last;  "it  is  some 
Mulgar's  tree-roost  fallen  into  the  water.  Its  leaves  are 
dry,  and  the  feet  of  that  long-legs  stand  deep  in  Spider- 
flower." 

"To  my  ej'es,"  said  Nod  slowly,  "it  looks  to  me.  Thumb, 
just  like  such  another  as  one  of  om*  water-rafts." 

"Wait  here  a  little  while,  Nizza-neela,"  grunted  Thumb 
suddenly;  "I  go  down  to  look  for  eggs." 

Nod  watched  his  brother  pushing  his  way  down  through 
the  sedge  and  trailing  Samarak.  "Eggs,"  he  whispered 
— "eggs!"  and  broke  out  into  his  little  yapping  laughter, 
though  he  knew  not  why  he  laughed. 

Up,  up,  on  sounding  wings  flew  a  bird  as  white  as  snow 
from  its  lodging  as  Thumb  drew  near.  And  there  he 
was,  stooping,  paddling,  pushing  with  his  cudgel,  and 
peering  into  the  tangle  at  the  water-side. 

—272— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

Nod  turned  his  head,  filled  with  a  sudden  weariness  and 
loneliness.  And  in  the  silence  of  the  beautiful  mountains 
he  fell  sad,  and  a  little  afraid,  as  do  even  Ooomgar  travel- 
lers resting  awhile  in  the  journey  that  has  no  end. 

Out  of  his  Mulgar  dreams  he  was  startled  by  a  sudden, 
sharp,  short  Mulgar  bark  from  far  beneath,  that  might 
be  fear  or  might  be  sudden  gladness. 

And,  in  a  moment.  Thumb,  having  cast  down  his  cudgel, 
and  with  something  clutched  in  his  great  hand,  was  swing- 
ing and  scrambling  back  through  the  thick,  flowery  under- 
growth of  the  hillside  by  the  way  he  had  come. 

Nod  watched  him,  with  head  thrust  forward  and  side- 
long, and  at  last  he  drew  near,  sweating  and  coughing. 

"Sootli,  sootli!"  he  muttered.  "Magic,  magic!"  and 
held  out  in  the  sunlight  an  old  red,  rotted  gun. 

Rusty,  choked  with  earth,  its  butt  smashed,  its  lock 
long  gone,  the  two  Mulgars  stood  with  the  gun  between 
them. 

"Oomgar's  gun.  Thumb? — Oomgar's?"  grunted  Nod  at 
last. 

Thumb  opened  wide  his  mouth,  still  panting  and  trem- 
bling. 

"Noos  unga  unka,  Portingal,  Ummanodda.  Seelem 
arggutchkin!     Seelem!  kara,  kara!     Seelem  mugleer!" 

And  even  as  that  last  Seelem  was  uttered,  and  back  to 
Nod's  mind  came  that  morning  leagues,  leagues  away, 
and  himself  sitting  on  his  father's  shoulder,  clutching  the 
long  cold  barrel  of  the  little  Portingal's  gun — even  at  that 
moment  a  faint  halloo  came  echoing  across  the  steeps,  and, 
turning,  the  Mulla-mulgars  saw  climbing  towards  them 
between  the  trees  Thimble  and  Ghibba.     But  not  only 

—273— 


THE  THREE  MULLA-MULGARS 

these.  For  between  them  walked  on  high  in  a  high,  hairy 
cap,  with  a  band  of  woven  scarlet  about  his  loins,  and  a 
basket  of  honeycombs  over  his  shoulder,  a  Mulgar  of  a 
presence  and  a  strangeness,  who  was  without  doubt  of  the 
Kingdom  of  Assasimmon. 


-eS^^..:^../®: 


—274— 


...  A    MULGAR   or   A   PRESENCE   AND  A  STRANGENESS,   WHO 
WAS    WITHOUT    DOUBT   OF  THE    KINGDOM   OF   ASSASIMMON. 


ENVOY 

"Long — long  is  Time,  though  books  be  brief : 
Adventures  strange — ay,  past  belief — 
Await  the  Reader's  drowsy  eye; 
But,  wearied  out,  he'd  lay  them  by. 

"But,  if  so  be  he'd  some  day  hear 
All  that  befell  these  brothers  dear 
In  Tishnar's  lovely  Valleys — well. 
Poor  pen,  thou  must  that  story  tell ! 

"But  farewell,  now,  you  Mulgars  three! 
Farewell,  your  faithful  company ! 
Farewell,  the  heart  that  loved  unbidden — 
Nod's  dark-eyed,  beauteous  Water-midden !" 


—275— 


A  NOTE  ON  THE  TYPE  IN 
WHICH  THISBOOK  ISSET 

This  book  is  composed  (on  the  Linotype),  in  Scotch. 
There  is  a  divergence  of  opinion  regarding  the  exact 
origin  of  this  face,  some  authorities  holding  that  it 
was  first  cut  by  Alexander  Wilson  ^^  So7i,  of  Glasgow, 
in  1837 ;  others  trace  it  back  to  a  modernized  Caslon 
old  style  brought  out  by  Mrs.  Henry  Caslon  in  1796  to 
meet  the  demand  for  modern  faces  brought  about  by 
the  popidarity  of  the  Bodoni  types.  Whatever  its 
origin,  it  is  certain  that  the  face  was  xvidely  used  in 
Scotland,  where  it  was  called  Modern  Roman,  and 
since  its  introduction  into  America  it  has  been  knoxcn 
as  Scotch.  The  essential  characteristics  of  the 
Scotch  face  are  its  sturdy  capitals,  its  full  rounded 
lower  case,  the  graceful  fillet  of  its  serifs  and  the 
general  effect  of  crispness. 


SET      UP,      ELECTROTYPED,      PRINTED,      AND 

BOUND   BY   THE   VAIL-BALLOU   PRESS,   INC., 

BINGHAMTON,       N.       Y.     •    ILLUSTRATION 

PLATES    ENGRAVED    AND    PRINTED     BY 

ZEESE- WILKINSON   COMPANY,  INC., 

LONG        ISLAND        CITY,        N.        Y.    • 

PAPER  MANUFACTURED  BY  THE 

TICONDEROGA  PULP  AND 

PAPER    CO.,    TICONDEROGA, 

N.     Y.,     AND     FURNISHED 

BYW.  F.  ETHERINGTON 

&      CO.,     NEW     YORK. 


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